


i'll fight their doubt and give you faith

by HeartonFire



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Angst, Badass Karen Page, Blood, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Crushes, Diners, Drugs, F/M, Fights, First Kiss, First Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Football Player Frank, Frank is smarter than people think, Frank to the rescue, Getting to Know Each Other, Gyms, High School, Homecoming Dance, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Investigations, Karedevil at the beginning, Kastle endgame, Lack of Communication, Love, Mock Trial Captain Matt, Mystery, Party, References to Drugs, Reporter Karen Page, Rescue, Romance, Self-Defense, Slow Burn, Talking about books, Teen Romance, Training, Tutoring, Underage Drinking, Violence, but not always how you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Karen Page is starting her sophomore year of high school. Things are looking up for Karen: editor of the school paper, straight-A student, and new girlfriend(?) of the boy next door (who she’s been crushing on for years).But there’s a mysterious new student at the school, and he needs Karen’s help to pass English. Or so she’s told. Not to mention the strange messages she’s started receiving from someone named Micro and the pressure she’s feeling to make the school paper the best it can be.When she tries to expose a serious issue at school, she gets in deeper than she ever expected and she's going to need some help to find her way out.





	1. dust off your highest hopes

“Are you going to the party tonight?” Trish asked, hanging upside down off the edge of Karen’s bed.

Karen stared at her from where she sat at her desk, working on her opening article for the paper. “Are you serious?”

Trish sat up, tossing back her blonde hair with a flounce as she crossed her legs in front of her. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

“Why would I go to a party at some football player’s house?”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Because school starts in a week and it might be nice not to be a total hermit all year? Again?”

“I’m not a hermit,” she protested, closing her computer. “I just don’t get caught up in all the social stuff and let it distract me from my schoolwork. And I have the paper.”

“I know that, and I love you for that,” Trish said patiently. “But come with me. Jessica’s going, too.”

Karen’s eyes widened. “Jessica agreed to go to a party with you?”

“She did. So, what do you say?”

Karen sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Fine.” Trish clapped her hands together. “But I don’t have anything to wear.”

Trish waved at her. “Come over beforehand and we’ll find you something. Have no fear.”

“Trish Walker is here,” Karen said, grinning.

Trish nodded, triumphant smile plastered on her face. “You got that right, sister.”

Later, when Karen left Trish’s house to walk with her to the party, she hardly knew herself. Trish insisted on putting some makeup on her and practically forced her to wear a skirt.

“It’s a new year,” she said, pushing the sundress at her with a grin. “Might as well dress for it.”

Karen tugged at the hem, wishing it was an inch or two longer. At least Trish hadn’t forced her to wear heels. She was already the tallest girl in their class. She didn’t need to tower over the boys that much.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, filled with milling teenagers holding red cups and beer cans. Trish took Karen’s hand and led her over to the table overflowing with drinks. She mixed some things into a cup and handed it to Karen, who took a sip and nearly spat it out.

“What did you put in this, gasoline?” she sputtered.

Trish just laughed and let herself be pulled onto the dance floor by a very blond, very tall football player. As head cheerleader, she was always on, in a way Karen could never understand or emulate. Not that she wanted to.

Instead of joining her on the dance floor, Karen moved to the edge of the crowd, scanning the faces for anyone she recognized. She saw a flash of dark hair and made a beeline for it.

“She dragged you here too?” Jessica Jones said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey as she leaned against the wall. Karen nodded, sipping at her drink. “Figures. Makes us come here, then ignores us completely.”

Karen laughed. “She just wants us to be part of this. Part of her world.”

“Fat chance of that.”

Karen kept moving, though it would have been easy to stay and talk to Jessica all night. Maybe Trish had a point: she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, and it wouldn’t hurt to make some new friends.

She was considering her options when she heard a voice behind her.

“Karen!” She turned to see Foggy, arms open to her. She hugged him and he grinned. “How was your summer?”

“Not as exciting as yours, Mister ‘I have an internship in DC’,” she said, nudging his arm.

He shrugged. “It was mostly getting coffees and making copies.”

“But still,” Karen said. “Way more interesting than staying around here.”

“Well, at least you made some money this summer, right? All that babysitting must have paid off.”

Karen nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone else approaching. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she saw who it was: Matt Murdock. The boy next door. The boy she had had a crush on since third grade. The boy who had filled out into a man over the summer while she wasn’t looking.

“Surprised to see you here, Karen,” he said, smiling at her. She blushed and looked down. The drink was suddenly a welcome break from talking. “Editor-in-chief of the paper this year, huh?”

Karen nodded, blush deepening. “Yeah.”

“Not bad for a sophomore.”

“Thanks.”

“Still can’t convince you to do mock trial with us? Debate?”

Karen shook her head. “No. Arguing isn’t exactly my favorite thing.”

“Ah, come on,” Matt said, turning to Foggy for support. “Wouldn’t she be a great lawyer?”

“Or witness,” Foggy said, and Karen glared at him.

“Not really convincing me here.”

“Well, then, any hints as to the direction of the paper this year?” Matt said, leaning closer to her. “Any inside secrets you can share?”

“You’ll just have to wait and read it like everyone else.”

Matt grinned. “Can’t wait.”

Karen felt like her tongue was tangled around any words she might say that would make any sense. Looking down, she saw that her cup was empty.

“I’m going to get another drink. You guys need anything?”

Before they could reply, she turned on her heel and moved as quickly as she could through the masses of people. Her cheeks were burning and she went over and over a response that would have seemed cool and relaxed, but it was too late. No wonder Matt never gave her a second glance.

She stared at the table of alcohol for a long time, mind still whirring. A hand on her arm startled her out of her thoughts.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” She turned and saw a stocky guy she didn’t recognize looking at her with something resembling concern in his brown eyes. “Need some help?” His voice was gravelly and low. Karen shivered.

“Uh, sure.”

A ghost of a grin flickered across his face and he took the cup out of her hand to pour. She realized, too late, that she probably shouldn’t trust someone she didn’t know to make her a drink, but there was something about this guy with his buzzcut and worn leather jacket that seemed softer than he looked.

He handed her the cup, now filled with cloudy liquid. “Here. Try it. You don’t like it, I can make you something else.”

Karen took a small sip and smiled. It was sweet, lemony. It tasted like summer sunshine. Karen looked up at the stranger and he was watching her carefully.

“Thank you. It’s delicious.” He nodded and backed up into the crowd before she could ask his name. Karen drank more deeply, curiosity roiling under her skin.

“Come dance!” Trish said, slurring her words a little as she dragged Karen towards her. She saw Jessica struggling to get away on her other side, but decided it was time to loosen up a little. The drinks were singing through her bloodstream now and she swiveled her hips to the deafening music. Trish squealed in delight and twined their fingers together, twirling around Karen like a salsa dancer.

Karen smiled and closed her eyes, letting the beat and the alcohol drift through her, transport her to another place. When she opened them, Trish had disappeared from her side, replaced by Matt Murdock.

“Having fun?” he said, smiling. Karen was just glad he couldn’t see her lame attempts at dancing.

“Yeah,” Karen said. “You?”

“Sure.” He leaned closer. “Be having more fun if you danced with me for a song or two, though.”

Karen froze, eyes wide. “What?”

“Dance with me?” he held out a hand and Karen took it cautiously. He spun her around and Karen felt dizzier than the move had any right to make her. Her heart was pounding and she hoped he couldn’t feel her palms getting sweaty. He pulled her close and she gasped. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he murmured. Karen blinked up at him. There was a time that they had been the same height. She supposed Matt had grown a bit over the summer.

“Yeah,” she whispered, sure he couldn’t hear her over the pounding music. “Me too.”

He smiled. “Good.”

* * *

Later, when Karen sank into her bed and stared up at the ceiling, she would remember exactly how Matt’s face looked when he told Trish he would walk Karen home, make sure she got home alright. Protective and possessive and, most of all, pleased.

He did walk her home. He even held her hand, which sent shivers over her body just to think about it. His hand was warm and strong in hers, and she wished the walk had been longer, but too soon, they were standing in front of her door. Matt didn’t let go of her right away, taking her other hand as he faced her.

“Good night, Karen,” he said softly.

“Night, Matt.”

He squeezed her hands and pulled her closer, and just for a moment, Karen thought he would kiss her. Instead, he embraced her and pressed his lips to the top of her head before releasing her.

“See you soon?” Karen said quietly, blushing slightly.

Matt nodded as he backed down the sidewalk. “Tomorrow.”

Karen grinned and unlocked the door to her parents’ townhouse. She sank back against the door, smile plastered on her face.

That smile didn’t fade until morning turned into evening and Matt hadn’t called, texted, come by, anything. Karen would have even settled for a carrier pigeon, for heaven’s sake.

When she finally got too annoyed with herself for waiting around for a guy, she stormed out of the house, door banging behind her on her way out. She stalked down the street, ignoring the honks and chatter of the people around her. She hardly even knew where she was going, but she soon found herself wandering into the park a few blocks away.

She sat on one of the metal benches just off the path. The heat of the sun had warmed the seat and the feeling of it spreading through her body calmed her racing heart.

“So what if he didn’t call? Who needs him?” She shook her hair back, whispering to herself. A dark shape entered her field of vision and she looked up to see the same mysterious guy from the party, the one who fixed her drink, walking by. He didn’t see her there, under the flowering willow, but she couldn’t stop looking at him.

He still had that jacket, despite the heat, and he walked with a swagger of someone who didn’t care what anyone thought of him, or his clothing choices. The combat boots on his feet made muffled thumps against the concrete and his eyes were focused on a spot far ahead of him. He didn’t even glance at her as he passed, but Karen was almost curious enough about him to call out a greeting.

She didn’t, of course. She didn’t even know him. Making her a drink didn’t mean anything. She didn’t even know his name. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out, letting out a deep sigh when she saw that Matt was calling.

“Hi,” she said quietly, trying to keep the spike of excitement and nerves she felt out of her voice.

“Karen,” Matt said, in a voice lower than she remembered. She shivered, even in the warm sunlight. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Where are you? I came by your house and you weren’t there.”

“I went for a walk.”

“Care for some company?”

“Sure. I’m at the park.”

“Be there soon.”

Karen smoothed her t-shirt and wished she had considered her outfit a little more carefully before leaving the house. He might not be able to see it, but she always felt nervous enough around him, even when she felt like she looked cute. It was too late now, though, and soon enough, Matt was there, striding confidently into the park, cane in hand.

“Matt!” she called and he turned towards her voice, smile fixed on his face. Despite herself, Karen smiled too.

She stood to greet him and he took her hands again, just as he had the night before. He still didn’t kiss her.

“Walk with me?”

She took his arm and walked beside him through the rest of the park. He asked her to describe what she could see, and she told him about all the bright flowers, lush trees, and fountains that surrounded them. She didn’t see the mystery guy again, though she felt eyes on the pair of them for the whole time they were in the park.

“Are you hungry?” Matt asked, in the middle of a description of a truly beautiful rose bush Karen saw to her left. The roses were the color of sunset over the ocean, orange and pink and yellow, all swirled together. They were, quite possibly, the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen.

“What?” she said, only half listening.

“Hungry?” he said again, turning his face towards her. Karen wondered sometimes if he really was totally blind, when he looked through her like that.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. I could eat.”

Matt led her to a small diner on the corner across from the park. It was retro, vintage, with red vinyl booths and Formica tables with shiny chrome edges, but everything looked new, pretending to be old. Karen sat across from Matt and studied the laminated menu without really seeing it. She felt shaky, nervous, in a way she didn’t expect. She had known Matt so long, she had long since tamped down on the butterflies she felt around him. Or she thought she had.

“What looks good?” Matt said, wry smile on his lips.

“Uh, I think some pancakes? Maybe French toast?”

He nodded. “That does sound good. Split a side of bacon with me?”

“Sure.”

They ate, chatting choppily between bouts of awkward silence. Karen kept wracking her brain for things to talk about. She didn’t remember it ever being this hard to talk to Matt before.

He walked her home, after. He held her hand. She wondered again if he would kiss her, and had almost resigned herself to his inevitable disappearance without it when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was quick, abrupt, and it startled her so much she almost didn’t have a chance to kiss him back before he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.  
“Why?” Karen breathed.

“Let me try that again.” He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her to him, pressing another kiss against her lips. This one didn’t last any longer than the first, but Karen was expecting it this time. She leaned towards Matt, only slightly disappointed when he backed up, away from her. His hands fell to her shoulders and he held her an arms’ distance away.

“Good night,” he said, taking another step back.

“Good night.” Her heart leapt and she wished he would look back. He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is a high school AU no one was asking for, but it wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it, so here it is. I'll be posting about a chapter a week, so I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
> 
> Also, as the notes say, this story starts out with Karedevil and ends with Kastle, so read at your own risk. :)


	2. you can feel it on the way home

Karen hardly saw Matt before school started. He was senior captain of mock trial, and Foggy told her that meant preparing every part of the case, so he would be equipped to prepare the other members. Karen was busy herself, writing drafts of articles and reaching out to her new staff to make sure the first edition of the paper would be ready by the second week of school.

Even so, it was a relief to see him at the other end of the hall at the end of second period on the first day of school. She pressed through the crowd and put a hand on his arm.

“Karen.”

“Hey. How’s your schedule looking?”

“Not bad. I just had English with Ellison. You?”

“Algebra with O’Connor next.” She wrinkled her nose. Mr. O’Connor was known for his nightly homework and impossible tests. He was ex-military and it showed in every aspect of his teaching, through every rule in his classroom.

“Good luck,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”

She definitely needed more than luck. The syllabus Mr. O’Connor dropped on each student’s desk was as thick as some textbooks.

“In this packet, you will find every assignment for the remainder of the school year. You should plan to have at least one hour of homework every night, including the night before a test. Do not come to me in a month and ask for extra credit. I will not grant it. Is that clear?”

The students mumbled their understanding and Mr. O’Connor nodded.

“Alright, before we get started, I’m going to give you a seat. This will remain your seat until next term, so get comfortable. Davis, here.” He pointed to the seat in the front, left corner of the room. “Williams, here.” He went through the roster, placing students as he saw fit. Finally, he got to Karen. “Page, here.” Karen scurried to sit in the desk in the third row, right in the center of the room. “Castle, here.”

Karen looked up from arranging her notebook and pencil on the desk. That was a name she didn’t recognize. She turned and saw the mysterious guy from the party and the park. He was staring down at his empty desk, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the wood. He looked up when he felt her eyes on him and raised his eyebrows.

“Can I help you?”

Karen blushed and turned back around, shaking her head. Mr. O’Connor was finished assigning seats and he was ready to start with Chapter 1.

“Castle, Page,” he barked. “Textbooks.”

Karen scrambled to grab a pile of books and begin distributing them. She was already done with two rows by the time Castle had ambled over to begin. Karen blinked at him. He shrugged back his shoulders and took his time moving through the room. There was something almost feline about him, the way he walked, the way he carried himself, the way he clearly didn’t give one single fuck about Mr. O’Connor or what he thought. Karen wished she could be more like that.

“Any day now, Mr. Castle.” Castle smirked and kept moving at his own pace. O’Connor tapped his foot impatiently, watching their progress. Karen slid back into her seat as quickly as she could when she was finished, glad to be out of the line of fire, but Frank continued to move as slowly as he pleased. Karen snuck a peek at him over her shoulder and marveled at the cocky tilt of his head as he considered their teacher once he had settled back in at his desk. Mr. O’Connor muttered something under his breath and started writing formulas on the board, making it all too clear that they were not going to be reviewing before they started new material. It was keep up or be left behind. Castle didn’t even open his book, she noticed.

When class was finally over, Karen thought her head was going to explode. Math had always been her least favorite subject, and she could already see this was going to be a long year.

She was on her way to lunch when her favorite teacher, Mr. Ellison, called down the hall after her.

“Karen! How was your summer?”

“Fine,” Karen said. “Pretty quiet. You?”

“Relaxing, thank you.” Mr. Ellison paused a moment. “Are you planning to tutor this year?” Karen shrugged. “I have a student in need of support. The football coach wants to make sure he passes his classes.” At the look on Karen’s face, he held up a hand. “He’s new here. Almost failed English last year. You just need to make sure he does his assignments.”

“So, be his babysitter?”

Mr. Ellison smiled. “Something like that. Come on, you’re my best student. You up for it?”

Karen shrugged again, before nodding. “Sure.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Come see me after school to meet him. Good to see you, Karen. Hurry now, before you miss lunch.”

* * *

Lunch on the first day of school was always a little nerve-wracking for Karen. She hated the uncertainty of it all.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Jessica and Foggy were already at lunch. Trish was there too, already holding court among the cheerleaders. Karen pulled her lunch bag out of her backpack and plopped it on the table beside Foggy.

“Morning that good?” Jessica said, through a mouthful of school hamburger. Her eyes stayed on Karen as she sank down onto the bench, shoulders slumped.

Karen shrugged. “Just already busy somehow.”

Foggy raised his eyebrows. “How is that possible?”

“Mr. Ellison just asked me to start tutoring some guy immediately.”

“Football player?” Jessica said, smirking when Karen nodded. “Figures.”

Karen shrugged, pulling at her chicken salad sandwich. “You still up for being the paper’s photographer this year?”

Jessica scowled and rolled her eyes. “Only because I know you won’t let it go until I say yes.”

“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to hear,” Karen said.

Foggy laughed. “You came to the right place then. Jessica’s famous for her enthusiasm.”

It was good to be back, Karen decided, watching Jessica try to punch Foggy across the table. He backed away so she couldn’t reach him, knocking into someone walking by.

“Hey!” a gruff voice said. Karen looked up to see that guy, that Castle, glowering down at them. “Watch it.”

“Sorry!” Foggy squeaked, voice cracking.

Castle grunted and kept walking. He found a seat in the corner of the cafeteria, alone. Karen watched him pick at the hamburger in front of him. She turned away before he saw her staring, but she thought about it afterward. That look on his face. He radiated something resembling rage, but Karen almost thought it looked more like loneliness.

All thoughts of lunch and Castle were driven out of her mind by her afternoon classes, and by the time the final bell rang for the day, Karen was exhausted. She was half-tempted to skip her meeting with Ellison at the end of the day, but she couldn’t let him down.

So, she found herself trudging against the flow of students towards the exits. She knocked lightly on the open door to Mr. Ellison’s room and stepped inside. No one else was there.

“You said today, right?”

He nodded. “I did. But, while we wait for your student, what are you thinking for next week’s paper?”

Karen ran a hand through her hair. “I have a few articles set. Introducing myself, writing about the changes to the schedule, normal type stuff. Curtis said he would do sports, Trish wants to do an advice column, and Jessica’s up for taking pictures for us. I was going to send them to you in a couple of days.”

“Great. But all of that does sound like ‘normal type stuff.’” He sighed and leaned against his desk, arms folded in front of him. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed, Karen.”

Karen blinked at him. “I thought I should follow last year’s first issue as a template.”

“Karen,” Ellison said gently. “If I wanted the same thing as last year, I would have the same editor as last year still running things. I want your take on it. Like that article you wrote at the end of last year.”

“What, the one about people stuffing the ballot boxes for prom court?”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Bring Karen Page to the paper.”

Karen’s mind raced. She was going to have to do a lot of rewrites to change the direction of next week’s issue. The last thing she wanted was for her first paper to be a failure. If Mr. Ellison thought she could do it, she had to try.

“Come in,” Mr. Ellison said, eyes on the doorway. Karen looked up and saw a face that was rapidly becoming very familiar to her. Castle.

“Hey, uh, coach told me to come down to meet my tutor.”

“Frank Castle, meet Karen Page.”

“We’ve met,” Karen said briskly.

“Yeah. Algebra.”

“Great. Then you two figure out the details and I’ll get out of the way.” He moved behind his desk and began sorting through papers. Karen was sure he was still listening.

“So, what?” Frank grunted. “You some kind of genius?”

Karen’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll do the best I can to help you.”

“Great.” He shifted his weight. “So, when should we meet?”

“How about Mondays and Wednesdays for now? In the library? We can start next week.”

Frank nodded. “Sure.”

“We can add more days if we need to.”

He smiled wryly. “If I end up being dumber than you think?”

“What? No. Just, if you have a paper or whatever.” Karen was blushing now, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“I was kidding, Miss Page.” His smile widened. “See you Monday.”

Karen stared after him. Even after he had disappeared through the door, something about him lingered. Karen shook her head and waved goodbye to Mr. Ellison, head spinning. She had a lot of work to do on the paper, and she did not have time to add Frank Castle to her list of things to think about.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she ran right into someone outside the door. She stepped back and saw Matt Murdock smiling down at her.

“Hey!” she said, touching his arm to steady herself.

“I wondered if you’d still be here. Paper stuff?” he said, falling into step beside her.

“Uh, yeah,” Karen said. “Paper and tutoring stuff. How’s the trial coming?”

He chuckled. “As well as it can when we don’t have half the people we need to fill the roles.”

Karen held up her hands. “I’m not the person to ask. I already have enough on my plate. Ellison wants me to change the whole first edition of the paper.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “He said I’m making it too generic.”

“Impossible.” Matt squeezed her hand and Karen smiled up at him. “Nothing about you is generic, Karen.” He kissed her cheek and Karen felt like she floated the rest of the way home.

* * *

By Friday, Karen had written and rewritten six more versions of her first articles, but she just couldn’t decide if they were good enough. Were they what Mr. Ellison wanted? Were they “Karen Page” enough?

She shuffled a stack of papers in front of her and sighed. Placing it on her desk, she rubbed her temples to relieve the tension headache that was rapidly forming inside her skull. She glanced down at her watch and froze. It was nearly six thirty. Matt was coming over at seven to take her to dinner. It was their first real date.

In a panic, she ran to her closet and threw dresses onto her bed. She had worn them all before, and none of them were what she wanted. She groaned and grabbed the one closest to her. It would have to do.

She didn’t have time to do anything with her hair, but she managed to get some makeup applied to her face and put on some earrings. She wasn’t sure they went with the dress, but as she was putting on the second one, she heard the doorbell ring.

“Matthew!” her aunt said cheerfully, and Karen desperately pulled shoes onto her feet before stumbling down the stairs.

“Hi, Matt.” She looked down, avoiding her aunt’s eyes. Matt looked great, in a collared shirt and khaki pants. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, nerves overtaking her.

“Karen.” He smiled, and her aunt sighed audibly.

“Aunt Cathy,” Karen said, glaring at her.

“Don’t be out too late!” her aunt called after them while they retreated down the front path.

It was a warm summer evening, and Matt led Karen down the street to a small Italian restaurant she had walked by before, but never been to. The tables were covered with pristine white tablecloths and sparkling glasses. Karen felt immediately underdressed.

She hardly even recognized the words on the menu. She knew fettucine alfredo and spaghetti, but the rest of the menu was completely unintelligible to her. She looked at Matt helplessly. He smiled at her.

“I don’t know what any of it is either,” he admitted.

Karen laughed. “Oh good. I thought it was just me.”

When the waiter came, Matt asked what he recommended and ordered whatever he said. Karen sipped on her water and looked at him. Really looked, like she hadn’t allowed herself to do for a long time. Looked at his thick, brown hair, the straight white teeth that made up his boyish smile, the flecks of green in his eyes.

“How’s the paper coming?”

“Fine, I guess,” Karen sighed, rolling her eyes.

“That good?”

“Yeah. That good.”

“Well, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“I hope so.”

Karen’s fingers twisted in the napkin on her lap and she was glad for the distraction of the waiter bringing their food over. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious and Karen swirled the pasta around her fork to get as much as she could in one bite. The creamy sauce spread over her tongue and she hummed her pleasure.

“Like it?” Matt asked, his own fork frozen halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah,” Karen mumbled through her half-chewed bite of food. “It’s so good. What did he say it was?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure.” He chuckled.

Karen relaxed a little. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but she cleaned her plate a few minutes later, fork scraping against the china. In her determination to finish the article she was working on, she had missed lunch entirely. She sank back into her chair and wiped at the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

“Thanks for this,” she said quietly, and Matt looked up, eyebrows furrowed curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Just, this is nice.”

Matt nodded. “It is, isn’t it?”

Matt paid the bill, waving off Karen’s protests, and walked her home. He held her hand and paused outside her door. Karen saw the curtains sway and knew her aunt was watching them. She was altogether too thrilled that Karen was dating, and Matt Murdock, that sweet Catholic boy from down the street, no less.

“See you tomorrow?” she murmured, leaning closer to him.

He shook his head with a sad smile. “No, I have to go visit an old family friend this weekend. Walk you home after school Monday?”

Karen huffed out a laugh and shook her head right back at him. “I have to tutor on Monday.”

“Well, we’ll do this again soon.” He kissed her forehead. “Very soon.”

“Sure,” she said. “Soon.”

* * *

Karen was in the library on Monday, trying to figure out what exactly she wanted to say in these articles. If she looked at them much longer, she was pretty sure her brain was going to shut down. Ellison’s words kept echoing in her mind and she wished, as she deleted another sentence, that she could just snap her fingers and get a polished article. Her life would be so much easier that way.

She was about to throw in the towel, go down to Mr. Ellison’s room, and beg him to give the editorship to anyone else, when she saw a blinking notification on her phone. She didn’t recognize the email, but she opened it anyway, desperate for something to think about that wasn’t her own terrible writing.

“Micro?” she whispered, eyebrows furrowed. At first glance, the message seemed like utter nonsense, and Karen nearly deleted it. She didn’t have time for games. Not right now.

Still, she hesitated. Staring at the incomprehensible words, a giggle bubbled out of her mouth at the irony. While she was struggling to understand her own words, in English, a message appeared in some foreign language. Because of course it did. She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared around the library to see that exactly no one had even looked up. Good.

Before she could decide what she wanted to do with the mysterious message, the bell rang and she shoved her things into her bag. The last thing she needed was to get detention for being late to Algebra. O’Connor was notorious. One second late and you’d be in the office.

She slid into her seat just before the second bell and let out a deep sigh of relief. She heard a chuckle behind her and glance back to see Frank Castle watching her, a smirk on his face. His feet were splayed out in the aisle and his desk was empty, as usual.

“Something funny?” she hissed, eyes trained on Mr. O’Connor as he wrote the day’s topic on the board.

“Not at all, Miss Page,” he whispered back.

Karen shook back her hair and fought down the shiver that traced over her skin at his words. She could feel him grinning behind her and she scowled.

At the end of class, when her head felt like it might explode from too much math, Frank touched her arm before she joined the line of students filing out of the classroom. Karen looked down, startled, and he drew his hand back so fast she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t imagined it being there at all.

“We still on for tutoring today, Miss Page?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Library after school, yeah?”

Karen nodded, throat tight, and watched him amble towards the door. “You can call me Karen,” she blurted, red rushing to her face as soon as she spoke.

He turned and looked at her for a moment. He didn’t smile, exactly, but something sparked behind those deep brown eyes of his. He jerked his head at her and disappeared through the door.

“Did you need something, Page?” Mr. O’Connor said from his desk in the corner of the room. “Or are you just planning to stand in my classroom all day for no apparent reason?”

Karen mumbled an apology and headed to lunch. She vaguely registered Jessica and Foggy sniping at each other about something, but it was like that email from earlier: she felt like it was in another language.

Eyes widening, she dug her phone out of her bag and pulled up the message again. She still didn’t recognize the language, but there was an easy way to figure it out: Google Translate.

“I love technology,” she whispered to herself. When she felt two pairs of eyes staring at her, she looked up. “What?”

“You okay over there, Karen?” Jessica said, peering at her from the corner of her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just paper stuff.”

Foggy laughed. “Must be something good to have you this worked up.”

Karen shrugged. “Not sure yet. I should get to the library. See you guys later.”

Before they could respond, Karen was out of her seat and moving quickly. The translation wasn’t perfect, but the partially translated message was enough to get Karen’s attention:

**Football team. Look closer. Micro**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to keep adding tags and characters as I go to give a few hints of what to expect in each chapter. I know there wasn't much Frank/Karen in this chapter, but there will be much more soon. Next chapter should be up next week sometime. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. you skip the conversation when you already know

“I’m sorry, am I boring you, Miss Page?”

Frank’s gruff voice jolted Karen out of her reverie. She couldn’t get the words of the message out of her head. What did it mean? What was the football team doing? Who was Micro? Why did he (or she) want her to look closer at the football team?

“Jesus,” Frank breathed. “I might as well just go to practice now.” He started pushing his books into his bag, but Karen shook her head. He sounded frustrated, annoyed even, but nothing like the roaring beast the rumors made him out to be.

“Sorry, sorry. Just thinking about some things.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I can actually almost see the wheels turning in there.”

Karen blushed. “I’m really sorry. I’m all yours now. What are you reading in English?”

He pushed a book towards her. _Heart of Darkness_. “Seriously, we can just do this Wednesday if you don’t want to be here today. Can’t say I want to either.”

“No. I said I would tutor you and I don’t go back on my word.”

He considered her closely and nodded. “Okay. So, what do we do first?”

“Well, how much have you read so far?”

Frank’s head dropped and he ran a rough hand over his short hair, as a harsh laugh pushed past his lips. “What do you think?”

“You haven’t started it?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “What do I care about some stupid guy going to Africa?”

“You know the movie _Apocalypse Now_?” Karen said.

He smirked and nodded. “Yeah. Course I do.”

“You like that movie?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“It’s based on this book.” She held up the paperback and tapped the cover for emphasis.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Look it up if you don’t believe me.”

His eyes narrowed and he pulled out his phone. Karen watched his face shift as he read, lips forming the words as his eyes passed over them. He looked up at her over the top of his phone and shook his head.

“Okay. So?”  
“Will you try to read the first couple chapters at least?” Karen ripped some paper from her notebook and started to write. “Here. Use these to take notes on the characters and major plot points.”

Frank took the pages gently, almost hesitantly. “I have to take notes?” he groaned.

“I think it would help.”

“What if I don’t need them?” he asked, eyes glinting.

“What do you mean?”

“Notes don’t help me.”

“How do you remember what you read, then?”

“I just remember.”

Karen scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’ll prove it.” Frank’s jaw jutted out defiantly. “You quiz me Wednesday on the first two chapters and if I know it, I don’t have to do notes.”

“Okay,” Karen said, agreeing before she even thought about it.

“Okay.” Frank smiled. It wasn’t a smirk, or even the smug grin he had in class sometimes. Just a genuine, light up your face kind of smile, and Karen couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“How’s the football team looking this year?” Karen asked, as casually as she could manage. Maybe Frank knew something. Maybe he would let something slip that she could use.

“You into football, Miss Page?” His eyes were suddenly sharp, focused.

Karen blushed again. “Not really. Just making conversation.”

“Come on. Let’s not do that.” As fast as the smile had appeared, it was gone.

“Do what?”

“The small talk, small town bullshit. Can we just skip that part?”

Karen blinked. “Uh, sure. Yeah.”

“Good. See you Wednesday.”

Karen sat there for a long time after he left, working on some of her own homework, while still trying to solve the mystery that had landed in her lap.

* * *

By Wednesday, Karen was no closer to deciphering what, exactly, this “Micro” meant by his message. She had talked to Curtis, her sports reporter, but her vague questions had just confused him. She tried to get him to do some digging for her, but he was on the football team, so she couldn’t give him too many details, and she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, which limited the answers she could find.

She saw Matt, briefly, but he seemed distracted, like he wasn’t really listening to what she was saying when she asked about his weekend. He said something vague about his family friend, that she was coming here for school, that he wanted Karen to meet her, but he was already moving away from her as he spoke, mumbling something about being late for class.

Karen was glad that she had finally managed to get an introductory article together that she didn’t completely hate, and it had run in the first edition of the paper that day, with her school picture from freshman year. Her hair had been shorter then, and her eyeliner much darker. Jessica had begged her to let her take a new picture, but Karen refused. She hated having her picture taken.

“Nice article, Miss Page,” Frank said, sliding into the seat beside her in the library.

“Thanks,” she said. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and ducked her head to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. What was it about Frank Castle that made her face burn like this?

“I mean it. Felt like it was you talking. All those fancy words and all.” He grinned. “Must be why they made you my tutor.”

Karen cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, how’s the book so far?”

Frank sighed. “Boring. But I did read the first couple chapters.”

“And?”

“And what? Quiz me.”

“Who’s the main character?”

“Marlow.”

“And who is he looking for?”

“Kurtz.”

“Where is he coming from?”

“England.”

“What region is he traveling to?”

“Congo.”

Karen sat back and smiled at him. “Very good, Mr. Castle.”

“That’s it?” He looked almost disappointed. “I expected more from you, Miss Page.”

“What?”

“I thought you’d ask me about the themes and what I thought of this Marlow guy.”

“Okay, tell me what themes you see so far.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious the author’s not big on colonies and empires and all that shit. Marlow’s going to Africa to fix things or find this guy or whatever, but I don’t think it’s going to work out for him.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It doesn’t sound like the best idea, and he kept talking about feeling like he was going to the center of the earth. That’s not the easiest place to get back from. And, it usually doesn’t go too well when people try to go in and change a place that existed long before they got there. People don’t like to be told their society is inferior.”

Karen stared at Frank. She couldn’t even form a sentence to respond to him.

“What? I get all that wrong or something?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I just can’t figure out how somebody as smart as you failed English last year.”  
“I _almost_ failed,” Frank scoffed. “I wasn’t there much.”

“Skipping class?”

He sat up straighter, eyes hard. “No. Had some personal things going on.”

“Oh.” Karen’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Frank.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he spat. “I got suspended, too. Didn’t do much reading. Just a lot of fighting.”

“I don’t pity you,” Karen protested.

Frank shrugged, shoulders rolling back stiffly. “Listen, I have to get to practice.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay.”

He hustled out of the library and Karen watched him go, staring at the spot where he had been long after he disappeared. When she finally stood, her phone buzzed.

**Thought you were smarter than this, Page. Come to the weight room tomorrow after school. Come alone. Micro**

* * *

Karen got no sleep that night. She tossed and turned, wondering again who was sending her these messages. It couldn’t be Frank, right? He would just come out and say it, not leave a cryptic note. She had read it so many times she could quote it from memory, but just the thought of it made her mind race.

“Thought you were smarter than this,” she whispered to herself. She thought she was too, and the curiosity of what all this meant burned at her. She was half-tempted to ask Matt what he thought, but she didn’t even know what she was getting into, and it seemed silly to go running to her boyfriend, or whatever he was, when she couldn’t figure it out. She wasn’t a damsel in distress. She could do this herself.

She eventually gave up on the idea of sleeping and sat at her computer. She searched each of the football players individually, every coach, every rival team. Everything came back normal. Nothing seemed out of place. Of course, she still didn’t know what she was looking for, but still. Micro wouldn’t keep contacting her if there wasn’t something here. Maybe what she was trying to find wasn’t something the internet could tell her. Maybe she needed to track them down at school.

She woke in the morning to sunlight streaming through the window of her bedroom. Groaning, she sat up and rolled her neck to crack it. Stiffness had spread into every one of her joints and she glanced at the clock to see it was already 7:32. She had fallen asleep without setting an alarm.

She hardly had time to brush her teeth and hadn’t even looked in a mirror before she left the house. She sprinted down the street and watched as the bus pulled away just as she got to the stop. She stopped running, hands on her knees while she tried to catch her breath. She was never going to make it in time, and this was one day of school she did not want to miss. Not when she was so close to getting a break on this story.

“Need a ride?” Karen looked up and saw Frank, in a black Mustang, its engine rumbling with a low growl.

“Really?”

“Sure.” He leaned over and opened the door for her. Karen folded herself into the plush, leather seat and snapped the seatbelt into place.

“Thanks.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

Frank nodded, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. He roared down the street, racing through a couple of yellow lights. Karen stared straight ahead, clasping her hands together, instead of holding on for dear life like she almost wanted to. Almost, but Frank’s easy smile kept her from actually doing it. Despite the speed, she never quite felt like Frank was out of control.

The clock read 7:58 when Frank squealed into the parking lot and slammed the car into park. Karen threw the door open and jogged to the school. She ignored the low chuckle that erupted out of Frank, and the feeling of his eyes on her back as she ran to make her first class on time.

She slid into her seat just as the last bell rang and wiped the sheen of sweat she could feel forming on her forehead.

The day passed in a blur. She mumbled her thanks to Frank again, but he just smiled cryptically and shook his head. Karen knew she would be kicking herself later for missing all the notes for a whole day, but her mind was on other things. Her eyes tracked the football players in her classes, wondering what she was missing. As the end of the day approached, time seemed to slow to almost a standstill. Karen glanced at the clock so many times, she wondered if it had stopped.

But finally, the bell rang and she forced herself to walk slowly down to the weight room under the gym. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Or at least avoid drawing more attention to herself. Not a lot of girls went down that way and Karen felt like there was a spotlight on her.

She ducked behind the staircase and hid behind some discarded mats when she heard the tramping of feet behind her. She watched a group of hulking young men and their coaches stomp their way into the weight room. They left the door cracked, and she crept closer, wondering which of them was Micro.

Weights clanked and boys grunted, but over the din, Karen could hear a conversation taking place. She strained to make out the words, while still remaining out of sight.

“You want in, you do what I say.” Karen didn’t recognize the voice.

“Yeah, but I think someone’s on to us.” That voice sounded more familiar, but she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t see anyone’s faces and she was afraid to move any closer, in case they saw her.

“You’re just being paranoid,” the first voice said. “Just do what you’re told, and it will all be fine. Just like on the field, you listen to me and you’ll do fine.” Something crinkled loudly. “Jesus, put that away! Nothing here, remember? Go to East Valley or something.”

Thudding footsteps jolted Karen and she huddled behind the mats again. Another group of boys passed her, chattering amongst themselves, Frank among them. Karen was surprised to see him laughing along with them. He sat with Curtis and the rest of them at lunch now, but it was strange to her to see him like this. Relaxed, enjoying himself, acting like a regular teenager. It was like he was a whole different person.

The conversation she had been listening to seemed to be over. She didn’t hear anything further, but as she crept back towards the stairs, her phone buzzed. She gasped and silenced it. The door of the weight room slammed shut and she jumped. No one came out, but her heart was pounding.

She ran up the stairs as quickly as she could and opened the message once she reached a quiet corner of the math hallway. It was a picture of the weight room door, the sliver of a face just visible through the gap.

**Clock’s ticking, Page. Keep digging.**

* * *

Karen did. She stared at the picture so long that night and the next two days, her eyes crossed. She knew the coaches had been in the room, along with half a dozen boys on the team. It could be any of them. She even asked Jessica to take a look. She was good with faces, but even she couldn’t tell who it was. And if they couldn’t tell who it was, it was no use to her. She needed hard evidence of whatever this was.

“Where did this even come from?” she asked, pointing at the picture. “Whoever took it did a shitty job focusing.”

“Yeah.” Karen took the phone back from her. “Yeah, I just thought you might be able to tell. Maybe sharpen it up or something?”

Jessica laughed sharply. “That’s CSI, TV bullshit. Doesn’t work like that in real life.”

Karen sighed. “Well, thanks for your help anyway.”

“This is for a story?” Jessica asked. Karen nodded. “About what?”

“Not sure yet. Just doing some research.”

Jessica squinted at her. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just want to get to the bottom of this.”

“Well, you need any help, or any pictures that are actually in focus…”

“You’re my girl. I know.”

Jessica gave her a half-salute and left Mr. Ellison’s room. Karen was working on the newspaper computer he kept in there, trying to set up a layout while studying pictures of all the players and coaches on the football team. They were selling something. Drugs, she suspected. But what kind? And which of them was doing it?

She sat there so long that the lights shut off. She tried to stretch and wave her arms to activate the sensor, but that didn’t work, so she walked over to the door to flick them on and off again. Voices were echoing quietly down the hall, and Karen stepped back so whoever it was wouldn’t see her. She froze when she recognized one of them: Matt.

She expected the other voice to be Foggy, but when she listened closer, the voice was decidedly female, with a slight accent. They were laughing.

“Matthew,” the girl said, sounding a little breathless. “I told you.”

“You did.”

Karen peeked out into the hallway and saw the girl, a slim girl with long, dark hair. When she turned her head, Karen saw that she was slim, petite, with dark eyes and a very pretty face. She couldn’t have looked less like Karen if she tried. Karen looked down at the mismatched outfit she was wearing and pressed back against the door as they passed. She watched the girl tug on Matt’s hand and pull him down the hallway with her. He stumbled over his feet, but followed her, puppy-dog smile plastered on his face. The same smile he had thrown her way at dinner on Friday, but different, too. More eager, more willing, somehow. Karen edged through the doorway and saw the girl press a kiss to Matt’s cheek before kicking the doors open and leading him outside.

Karen fell back against the door. Her head felt foggy, heavy, like her brain was running at half speed. She gathered her things, or she must have, because she had her bag when she found herself half a block away from school. She tasted salt on her tongue and realized she was crying. She didn’t know when the tears had started, but she couldn’t seem to get them to stop.

She was nearly home when a black Mustang rolled up beside her.

“Hey,” Frank said through the window. “You okay?”

Karen shrugged and kept walking. “Go away, Frank.”

“Karen.” She stopped and looked at him. It was the first time he had ever called her by her first name.

“What do you want?” she said, wiping at her eyes. She felt shame burning up into her face and wanted to sprint away from him as fast as she could.

“Get in.” It wasn’t a question. He pushed the door open and Karen sniffed. Her brain was still moving slowly, but her body responded without a thought. She was in the car before she registered it as a decision.

“Where are we going?” she asked absently. It didn’t really matter. She stared out the window. She couldn’t look at him.

He didn’t answer, just kept driving. His thumbs tapped on the steering wheel and he seemed completely at ease, aside from the redness on the back of his neck that was creeping up towards his ears. There was what looked like a bruise on the edge of his face. Looking closer, his knuckles were a little red too.

“What happened?” Karen said, and Frank glanced at her. “To your face?’

“Oh, uh, football.”

He pulled into a parking spot and Karen didn’t even have time to open the door before he was there, holding it open for her. She took his outstretched hand to get out of the car and followed him into a dingy diner she had never been to before.

Frank obviously had, though. The waitress came over to pour him a cup of black coffee as soon as he sat down. Karen took one as well. It was bitter and roughly the consistency of tar, but it was enough to kickstart her brain.

“Why am I here, Frank?” Karen said.

Frank scrunched his nose as he took a sip of coffee. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you bring me here?” She waved at the scratched tables, ripped booths, and dented stools surrounding them. Unlike the diner closer to her house, this was an old diner that actually looked old.

“You looked like you could use some coffee.”

Karen laughed, despite herself. “That’s it?”

Frank stared at her for a long moment. “That’s it. Not everyone has an ulterior motive. Didn’t think you’d want to cry in a place where people know you.”

“Okay, Frank.” She was oddly touched that he would think of that.

They sat in silence, sipping their coffee. Karen studied Frank’s face as he studied hers. He wasn’t handsome, not in the usual way. Not in the boyish way she thought she liked. He was solid, though. Tough. She had heard some of the other football players call him “the Punisher.” He looked like he fit the part, all muscle and hard edges. But there was something softer in his eyes as he looked at her. Gentle, almost, if that wasn’t a crazy thought.

“What did he do?” he said quietly.

“Who?”

“Come on.” He shook his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t play dumb. Your boyfriend. Murdock.”

Karen blinked rapidly. “How do you know about that?”

“I’m not blind. I saw you at that party. In the hallway. Walking in the park. So, what did he do?”

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Karen said.

A frown creased Frank’s face. “Then why are you here?”

“You brought me here.”

“You got in the car. Now, _what did he do_?” His voice rumbled through his chest. Karen felt it all the way down to her fingertips.

“Nothing. He’s not even my boyfriend. Just let it go.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“No, I’m not. You don’t know anything about it. Or him. Or me.”

“Fine.” Frank pushed his cup of coffee away. “Maybe I don’t. But you don’t seem like the kind of girl to walk down the street crying if she doesn’t have a goddamn good reason.”

Karen pursed her lips. “I just saw him with someone. Someone pretty. And I freaked out a little. Okay?”

“You love him?”

“What?” She nearly spit out her sip of coffee. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one. Yes or no?”

Karen sputtered. “It’s not that simple. I’ve known him forever, but we haven’t been together that long, and it’s not like we’ve even talked about it. So no, Frank, it’s not simple.”

His fingers twitched against the sides of his coffee mug. “Sure, it is. And it sounds like you do.”

“Not if he’s going to hurt me like this, I don’t.” Karen ran a hand through her hair. Frank’s eyes followed her movement.

“If he can hurt you like that, make you cry, you do. You know, before I came here, I had a girl who kicked the shit out of my heart. She twisted me around until she broke me in half, but I would let her do it all over again if I could. She loved me and I loved her.”

“Oh yeah? And why can’t you?” Karen said, through gritted teeth. “If that kind of love was so great, why not just be with her?”

Frank’s nose crunched again. “Because, _Miss Page_ , she got hit by a car. Drunk driver.”

“Jesus, Frank,” Karen breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. You don’t just throw something like that away. Mine was taken from me. Yours wasn’t.”

Karen turned his words over and over in her mind as she lay in bed for another sleepless night. It wasn’t even the words that haunted her. It was the way his eyes flashed, the way his voice broke, talking about love. Love that hurts. Love that lasts. Love that lingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my version of the famous diner scene. It's just such a good place for Frank and Karen to talk, and I wanted them to have that. Posting this a little earlier than planned, but hopefully that's a good thing. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos. It's comforting to know there are other people who want this AU too. I hope you enjoy and I'll try to have the next one up just as fast. :)


	4. we learn to live with the pain

“You have to come,” Trish whined from the doorway of Mr. Ellison’s classroom. “You haven’t even been to one game this season!”

Karen shrugged, glancing over the advice column Trish had sent her. “This looks good. Definitely going in next week’s paper.”

“Karen,” Trish said, folding her arms in front of her. “Please come to the game. There’s a party at my house after, and it will get your mind off things.”

“What things?” Karen said absently, shuffling through papers to find what she was looking for.

“The paper, for starters.” She stared at Karen until Karen looked up. “And Matt.”

Karen sighed. She knew she’d regret telling Trish and Jessica what she had seen, but she had texted them anyway after Frank dropped her off at home. Nothing had changed between her and Matt in the weeks that had passed. He was still sweet to her, still talked to her at school and met her for coffee or a quick bite, but it was like they were spinning their wheels. All he could talk about was mock trial and his friend from childhood. He hadn’t kissed her again. She hadn’t mentioned what she had seen to him. “I don’t need to get my mind off anything.”

“Right.” Trish rolled her eyes.

“I don’t. Everything is fine.”

“Fine. Come anyway. I’m not giving up on you yet, Page.”

Karen laughed softly and waved her away, but as she sat there, staring at the same blank screen for the better part of an hour, she finally pushed herself away from the computer and gathered her things. She considered just going home, but Trish’s voice echoed in her head. Ignoring the inevitable look of triumphant glee on Trish’s face when she saw her, Karen joined the crowd moving towards the field.

She looked for an empty seat in the bleachers when someone called her name.

“Karen!” Foggy was there, with a pretty blonde girl next to him. Karen was reasonably sure her name was Mary. “Come sit with us!”

“Hi, I’m Marci.” Karen filed that away.

“Karen.”

“I know.” Marci smiled, and Karen relaxed a bit.

“How do you two know each other?” Karen made eye contact with Foggy and shook her head a little. She had never seen Foggy with a girl before.

“Mock trial,” Marci said brightly. “I just joined this year, but apparently, I have potential.”

“More than that, she’s going to be a shark. I can already tell.”

“Too bad you’re on the wrong side.” She grinned at him. “How do you know Foggy, Karen?”

Karen thought about it for a moment. “I just know him. Always have, it feels like.”

Foggy clutched his chest as though she had shot him. “You don’t remember how we met? I’m hurt.”

“It was so long ago!” Karen protested.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. Matt and I were maybe ten or eleven at the time, and this new girl moves in down the street. Big blue eyes and an unstoppable determination to join us whenever we did anything. Before long, she was part of the crew.”

“Wow. You’ve known each other a long time.”

“Yeah,” Karen said, nodding. “I can hardly even remember before I knew them.” It wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t exactly feel like explaining her whole life to the two of them. There were things Foggy didn’t even know.

“And, speaking of the three musketeers, here’s our third.”

Sure enough, Matt was making his way through the crowd. Karen wasn’t sure how he knew where they were, but he headed straight for them.

“Mind if I join you guys?”

Foggy slapped him on the shoulder and he sat down beside Karen. “Hi,” he murmured, almost too low to hear over the chatter of the crowd.

“Hey,” Karen said, staring at her shoes.

“You okay?” he asked. She wondered how he always knew, when he couldn’t see her face. She couldn’t even hide her feelings from a blind man.

“Sure, yeah. Just busy with the paper and everything.” Trish had gotten her thinking about what had happened again, and she couldn’t get it out of her head.

“And tutoring, right? How’s that going?”

Karen smiled. “Surprisingly well. I think.”

“You think?” Matt chuckled.

“Yeah. I mean, no major grades yet, but it’s good.”

“Who’s the kid?”

“Frank Castle.”

Matt’s face froze. “Frank Castle? The Punisher?” He scoffed. “No wonder he’s got all these bright ideas in class.”  
“What do you mean?”

“He was talking about themes and symbols and all kinds of things. Makes sense now where he got it.”

Karen sat up straighter, bristling. “Actually, he had all those ideas himself. He’s pretty smart.”

“You don’t have to defend him to me, Karen. He’s a bruiser. That’s why he’s on the team.”

“He’s more than that, Matt.”

“They call him the Punisher, Karen.” Matt sounded disgusted. “He got in a fight with one of the other football players yesterday. The rest of the team had to pull him off the guy.”

“A fight?” Karen shook her head. “He must have had a reason.”

“Maybe so. Nearly got him kicked off the team, though.”

Karen bit back a response to stand and cheer with the rest of the crowd while the Phantoms jogged onto the field. Curtis broke the paper barrier Trish and her cheerleader friends were holding, and she spotted Frank in the back of the pack, scowl firmly planted on his face. She thought she could almost hear his voice when he roared with the rest of them.

She also saw Foggy glancing at her and Matt curiously, but she ignored him as best she could. She knew nothing about football, but it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement around her. Foggy spent half the game out of his seat, screaming at the referees and the other team whenever something didn’t go their way.

She would never admit it to anyone, but Karen couldn’t take her eyes off Frank. She didn’t believe that he would fight someone out of nowhere, no matter what Matt said, but there was something fascinating about watching him tackle guys twice his size.

There had been some pushing and shoving all game, but with five minutes left in the fourth quarter, Frank got to the quarterback and knocked him to the ground, hard, just as he got the ball out of his hands. Before the whistle even blew, three of the linemen had jumped on Frank. Karen’s hands flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp that escaped her.

The officials tried to pull them apart, but it was Frank who finished things. He shoved the biggest one off so hard he fell back onto his knee. His howl of pain was loud enough to drown out the crowd for a second. Frank got up into a crouch and grabbed the helmet of the guy next to him to toss him into his teammate with a sickening crunch. The last one scurried away before Frank could get his hands on him. The referee blew his whistle one last time and sent Frank to the sideline with a sharp gesture.

The coach clapped Frank on the shoulder and he sat on the bench, helmet in his hands. He stared at the ground, like there was no game in front of him at all.

When the final second ticked off the clock, the Phantoms had won, and Karen heard the shrill voices of the cheerleaders chanting for the players while they trudged off the field.

“Are you guys going to Trish’s party?” Karen said, and Foggy shrugged.

“Not really my scene.”

“Oh, come on,” Marci said. “Let’s go. Could be fun.”

Foggy grinned and let her lead him away. “Guess I’ll see you there!”

“You coming, Matt?” Karen asked, turning to him for the first time since the beginning of the game.

“You want me to?” Despite herself, Karen’s heart fluttered at the question. It felt hollow, somehow, incomplete. She still heard his disgust at the very idea of Frank and it made her skin prickle unpleasantly.

“Sure.” She hesitated. “You could invite your friend who just started here. Still haven’t met her yet.”

Matt swallowed. “Who, Elektra?”

Jesus. Her name was Elektra. What chance did Karen have? “Yeah. If she wants. Surprised she wasn’t here tonight.”

“Yeah, this isn’t really her scene either.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll see if she wants to come to the party. You said it’s at Trish’s?”

“Uh huh.”

  
“See you there.” Karen watched him walk away and pushed down the swirl of emotions rising in her chest. She followed the crowd out of the stands and decided to walk to Trish’s. Clear her head a little before the party. It was going to take a long walk to do that, but it was worth a shot.

* * *

By the time Karen had her head on straight, or at least a little straighter, she could hear the music thumping three blocks away from Trish’s house. She hesitated for a moment, but she had to make an appearance. After all, she had twisted both Foggy and Matt’s arms to get them to come. She couldn’t just disappear.

When she got inside, she wished she had reconsidered. The crush of bodies writhing to the music was already overwhelming, and she didn’t see any of her friends. She pushed through the crowd and found her way to the kitchen. Trish was there, seated on the countertop and surrounded by people.

“Karen!” she shouted, sloshing her drink onto the floor in her hurry to get to her feet. “You came!” She crushed Karen in a hug. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m going to stay long,” Karen mumbled, but her words were swallowed up by the music and loud conversations around them. Trish dragged her out to the porch, to a table with a large punch bowl, as well as a wide variety of beers and other liquors.

“Try the punch,” Trish said, scooping Karen a cupful.

“What’s in it?” Karen asked.

“No idea.” Trish shrugged. “So, I saw you and Matt at the game. Everything okay there?”

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Typical. You can talk to me about things, Karen.”

Karen smiled and took a sip of punch. It was fruity, but she could taste the strong tang of alcohol underneath. She watched someone pour a bottle of something into the bowl and stir in a splash more juice. “Thanks, Trish. I promise I will, as soon as there’s anything to tell.”

Trish nodded at her and went back inside. A roar of greeting erupted when she went into the living room and joined the dance floor. Karen found her way back into the kitchen and saw Jessica, slouched in the corner, beer in hand. She started towards her, but was surprised to see Frank Castle, deep in conversation with her, one arm propped against the fridge. Karen watched them, Jessica’s quizzical smile and Frank’s furrowed brow, and tried to read their lips to see what they were saying. Having never done that before, she wasn’t having much luck.

“Who are we spying on?” a voice said beside her.

“Foggy! You startled me.” She took another swallow of punch and smiled at him. “I’m not spying on anyone. Just observing.”

“Who are we observing, then?” He grinned.

Karen sighed. She glanced over at the corner and Jessica was still there, alone. “No one.” She cleared her throat. “Is Marci here?”

“Yeah, just grabbing some drinks.”

“So?” Karen said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“So, what?”

“Are you two…?” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Foggy blushed. “No. I don’t know. Maybe?” He choked at the sight of his new blonde friend at Karen’s side. Marci held out a beer to him and he took it, cheeks still red.

“What did I miss?” Marci said, looking between the two of them, eyebrow quirked.

“Nothing.” They said together, and she burst out laughing.

“Okay, then. Come dance with me, Nelson.”

They disappeared into the crowd and Karen thought about joining them, until a hand on her arm made her pause.

“Come with me a second.” Frank said quietly, eyes darting around the room. Karen nodded and followed him outside to a dark corner of the porch. The heat of his hand radiated into her arm and she felt anchored, attached, like she had no choice but to stick by him.

“What do you need, Frank?” He still wouldn’t look at her, and he dropped his hand. Cool air against her skin made Karen shiver. Frank’s fingers tapped on the wooden railing in a rapid rhythm. Karen’s heart felt like it was beating in the same erratic way, the longer he waited and the longer he tapped. “Frank?”

His dark eyes shot up to meet her. “What do you know about a guy named Micro?”

Karen’s heart stopped. “What?”

“What do you know about a guy named Micro?” he repeated, voice vibrating into the relative quiet.

Karen shook her head. “Uh, not much.”

“He been sending you tips?”

She thought of lying, but she couldn’t. Not when he was looking at her like that. “Yeah.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Yeah. Why?”

“Who is he, Karen?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even really know what he wants me to find.”

“Bull,” Frank spat.

“No, I really don’t know. He’s totally anonymous. Could be a girl, for all I know.”

“Listen to me.” He gripped both her arms now, his face inches from hers. “He’s not a friend of yours. You can’t just trust people like that. You’re going to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.” Karen tried to pull away, but Frank’s fingers tightened slightly to hold her there. “Let me go, Frank.” His hands instantly released her. “Do you know who he is?”

He shook his head. “Please let this go, Karen. I am handling it, but I can’t do that if you’re poking around.”

“And why is that?” she said, thrusting her chin forward.

“Because you’re going to get hurt, and I can’t protect you from that and take care of things myself.”

“You don’t need to protect me, Frank. You don’t need to give me rides or bullshit pep talks or anything else. I can take care of myself.”

Turning on her heel, Karen stormed inside, away from him. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Her skin tingled where Frank’s fingers had been. He didn’t follow her inside.

“Karen!” Matt’s voice cut through the crowd, and he made his way over to her. The girl who must be Elektra followed, hand in his. “I’ve wanted you two to meet. Karen, Elektra. Elektra, Karen.”

“Pleasure,” Elektra said silkily. Her eyes slid to Matt as she spoke, a smirk on her lips.

“Nice to meet you.”

“So, you’re the girl next door?” Elektra’s dark eyes sliced through Karen and she had never felt so small. It wasn’t cruelty, or even malice, just measured consideration. Karen shifted under her gaze.

“And you’re the old family friend.” Karen squared her shoulders.

“It’s so lovely to meet Matthew’s friends.” It seemed to Karen that she emphasized the word friends.

“It is, isn’t it?” Karen agreed.

Matt grinned. “See? I told you it could be fun here.”

“More fun if there was something other than processed juice and grain alcohol to drink.”

“You want to leave?”

“Let’s. My dad has better liquor on the bottom shelf of his liquor cabinet than we’ll find in this whole house.” She smiled at Karen, all shiny teeth and glinting eyes. “Really, so lovely to meet you, Karen.”

“You too,” Karen said.

“You want to come with us?” Matt said, expression open and eager. Elektra’s eyes flashed to him, softening when she saw the look on his face.

“Yes, darling. Would you like to join us?” she said sweetly. She wasn’t fake, this girl. Just very sure of herself. It was more than a little intimidating, but Karen wasn’t about to show it.

“No, but thanks. I think I’m going to head home. Just need to say goodbye to Trish.” She drained her cup and tossed it into the trash.

“You sure? Want me to walk you home?”

Karen touched his arm and smiled. “No. I’ll be fine. Have fun.”

“Okay. Text me when you get home.” Matt kissed her cheek and followed Elektra through the crowd, one hand on her back.

Karen watched them go. She couldn’t quite place the emotion she felt. She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t even angry. It was like someone had sucked all the emotion out of her. She was hollow. She was alone. She would be fine.

She didn’t think of Matt on her way home. She thought of Micro. And Frank. He obviously knew what was going on, but he didn’t want Karen to know. He said he was taking care of it, but what did that mean? Was he part of it? Was he trying to stop it?

Karen was a block away from her house when a hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her backwards. She felt a sharp pain on the back of her head and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I appreciate all the kudos and comments and I so appreciate all of you sticking with this and with me. I will admit that Matt and Elektra are not my favorite (especially for how Karen was treated in Daredevil S2), but I actually kind of like them together, so they'll be featured more in the future.


	5. i'm not a princess and this ain't a fairy tale

When Karen woke, she was sitting in a dimly lit room. She vaguely registered cinderblock walls and sickly fluorescent lights. Her vision still slightly blurry, she tried to stand, but her ankles and wrists were tied to the chair. She struggled against the ropes binding her, to no avail. She was trapped. Her head pounded.

“So, the princess is awake?” a voice said from behind her. Karen strained to see who it was, but the person stayed just out of sight.

“Where are we?”

“I’ll ask the questions, sweetheart.” He walked into Karen’s field of vision and she saw that he was wearing a knit mask that covered his face and hair. He was slim, fairly tall. Karen filed that away in her mind for when she got out of here. _If_ she got out of here. “Why were you eavesdropping outside the weight room the other day?”

Karen shrugged. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you!” he shouted, before he regained control over himself. “You think you’re so smart. But I saw you. What were you doing there?”

“I was meeting someone.”

“Hiding in the corner?” He smiled viciously. Karen shrugged again. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing. Just guys lifting weights.”

He sneered. “You expect me to believe that?” He pulled his arm back and slammed it into Karen’s stomach. The chair moved back several inches and Karen screamed. Pain radiated through her body and she slumped over.

“I didn’t hear anything,” she said again, looking up to meet his eyes. The tears that rose in her eyes were not going to fall. She wouldn’t let them.

He nodded and she heard footsteps behind her. A group of men stood around her in a circle, all masked, none smiling.

“If that’s true, we better not hear anything about your little investigation in the school paper or anywhere else. You understand?”

Karen’s heart pounded painfully against her chest and she nodded, eyes tracing the circle around her.

“I said, do you understand me?” he said, punching her again. And again. The circle closed in around her and Karen clenched her eyes shut, tears streaming down her cheeks no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Sobs tore their way out of her throat. “We’re going to have some fun with you. Make sure you don’t forget.”

Karen braced for the next attack, but through the pain, Karen heard shouts of surprise. She cracked her eyes open and saw one of the attackers crash into the wall with a sickening crunch. The other guys focused their attention on the intruder and Karen used the break in the violence to catch her breath. Whoever he was, he landed punches and kicks faster than Karen could follow She finally caught a glimpse of the newcomer’s face when he had finished off all but two of the attackers.

“Frank?” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t hear her, too focused on slamming the two last men’s heads together. They crumpled to the floor and Karen could hear Frank’s labored breathing. His knuckles were bloody and a bruise was already purpling his cheek, just under his eye.

He approached her slowly, hands up. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and sliced through the cords that tied her to the chair. His hands covered hers and she lifted her head to look into his eyes. He was crouched in front of her, dark eyes tracing her face.

“Are you okay?” he said gently. One hand pushed the hair out of her face. Karen felt calluses on his fingers against her skin. She wondered if she was losing her mind.

Karen nodded and tried to stand. She clutched Frank’s hands for balance and he stood with her. She whimpered as she straightened and nearly toppled over. Frank caught her and held her to his chest. Karen could feel his heart beating against hers and tried to breathe with him to steady herself.

“It hurts,” she said.

Frank nodded. “I know. I’m going to get you out of here.” He pulled away from her and wound an arm under her shoulder blade to support her. She tried to take a step, but shook her head, the pain too much to bear.

Frank stopped, put one arm under Karen’s knees, and lifted her into his arms. That hurt too, but not nearly as much. His chest was solid, warm, and Karen let her head fall into the crook of his neck. He moved as quickly as he could, but she could tell he was trying not to jostle her. He set her gently in the passenger seat of his Mustang and slid across the hood to get to the wheel as fast as he could.

Karen felt bile rising in her throat at the pain, but she forced it down. The shame and embarrassment of what had happened was already making her cheeks burn. She was _not_ going to vomit in Frank’s car.

Frank raced to the hospital. He screeched into the parking lot and lifted Karen into his arms again. The automatic doors shot open when he approached.

“I need a doctor!” he roared, and several nurses hurried over to get Karen onto a stretcher to bring her into the ER. Frank stayed with her until they went through a set of double doors. Karen looked back and saw him staring at her through the windows. She lifted one hand to him, wishing he was still there, beside her.

* * *

The doctors patched her up, but insisted she stay overnight, to make sure there was no internal bleeding or anything more serious. She had a possible concussion and several bruised ribs, they told her, and she would need to take it easy for a while. They had done some x-rays and said there were no fractures, but she was still in a lot of pain. It could have been a lot worse.

Karen had just hung up from a call to her aunt and uncle to tell them what happened, when there was a knock on the door to her room. She looked up and smiled faintly when she saw Frank.

His shoulders were hunched, like he was trying to make himself smaller, and his head was tipped down, eyes on Karen. “Can I come in?” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Karen said, sitting up as much as she could. They had given her some pretty powerful painkillers, and it didn’t hurt so much now. “You stayed.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I had to make sure you were okay.”

Warmth spread through Karen’s chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Frank stepped closer to the bed, almost close enough to touch. There was a chair next to the bed, but he didn’t sit. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head.

“Frank,” Karen said. He looked up and his eyes seared through her.

“I’m sorry, Karen,” he mumbled.

“What?” She blinked at him. “Why are you sorry?”

“That should never have happened.” His face hardened. “It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Frank,” she said again. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He started to pace next to the bed. His fingers were twitching, and Karen could see that his knuckles were still bloody.

“You should let someone take care of your cuts,” she said, and his head shot up. He glanced down at his hands and grunted.

“It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.”

Karen shook her head. “Please, Frank.”

His eyes softened and he shrugged. “When your folks get here. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Sit with me?” Karen asked. She hated the way her voice shook, but Frank didn’t seem to notice. He jerked his head in a nod and folded himself into the metal chair. His fingers tapped on the armrests and his eyes darted around the room.

Karen wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what to say. Before she could figure it out, the door opened again and her aunt and uncle bustled into the room. Her aunt pressed kisses to Karen’s head and smoothed her hair down. Her uncle stood back a little, tears in his eyes.

“Oh, Karen, what happened?” her aunt said, voice a little wobbly.

“I was walking home and someone hit me,” she said vaguely. Frank’s eyes narrowed.

“The police are on their way,” her uncle said softly. “They’ll want to talk to you.”

“I didn’t see who it was.” Karen’s eyes locked on Frank. He nodded and scrunched his nose. He pushed the chair back with a creak and stood, unfolding to his full height.

“And who is this?” her aunt said, sounding slightly more cheerful, if a little confused.

“This is Frank,” Karen said. “He brought me here. Frank, this is my aunt and uncle.”

“Thank you, Frank,” her uncle said, shaking his hand.

“Yes, thank you, Frank,” her aunt repeated, beaming at him.

“Sir. Ma’am.” With one last nod, he left, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“What a polite boy,” her aunt said, smiling after him. “How do you know him, Karen?”

“Aunt Cathy,” Karen sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m really tired. Can we talk about this later?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“How are you feeling?” her uncle asked.

“A little better. They said I need to rest.”

“Of course, you do. I’ll stay here with you tonight, and then we’ll take you home tomorrow,” her aunt said.

“But you’re alright?” her uncle said, eyes lingering on the bandage on her head.

“Yes, Uncle Steven. They said I’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”  
“Then I’ll be here bright and early to pick you both up.” He kissed her cheek and left.

Karen tried to sleep, if only to avoid her aunt’s questions, but between the throbbing in her head and the panicked images that flooded her mind, she wasn’t sure she got any rest at all.

By the time she got home the next morning, her phone was filled with texts and messages from her friends. Foggy, Trish, Jessica, everyone wanted to check in and make sure Karen was alright. She wasn’t sure how they had heard what happened, but the news traveled fast and everyone was trying to get in touch.

When they pulled into the driveway, Karen saw Matt, standing on the front steps. She took her uncle’s arm and leaned on him to get into the house. The medication helped, but sharp stabs of pain raced up her sides with each step.

“Karen,” Matt said, voice grave.

“Hi, Matt.” Karen went inside with her uncle and sat on the couch. Matt stood by the TV, hands twisting around his cane.

“What happened?”

Karen sighed, already tired of this question. “I was walking home. Someone attacked me.”

“You walked home alone?”

Karen raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. Never been a problem before.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, the doctors said I should be just fine. Just need to rest.”

“I’m so sorry, Karen.”

Karen sighed again. “Why?”

“I shouldn’t have left you at the party. I should have walked you home.”

“It’s okay, Matt.” He scoffed. “No, really. You don’t have to protect me.”

“Obviously someone needs to.”

“It doesn’t have to be you, Matt. I think we both know I’m not really the one you want to protect.”

“What do you mean?” he said, taking a step back.

“I mean, we’re friends.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe that’s all we’re supposed to be.”

“What?” His face fell, like he wasn’t quite processing what she was saying.

“It’s okay. I can see the way you are with Elektra. And that’s good. You deserve that. You deserve to be happy.”

“Karen,” he said, clearing his throat. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

He shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

If you had asked Karen Page six months ago how she would feel after breaking up with Matt Murdock, she would have predicted sadness, anger, fear. She couldn’t have predicted what she  actually felt: nothing. She meant what she said. Elektra was very different from her, but if that’s what Matt wanted, she was happy for him. They were friends. She thought she wanted something more, but maybe friends was all they were meant to be.

But when her phone buzzed one more time, to show a different name, she felt something. Something warm, something sweet, something new.

**Hey. Glad you’re ok and you’re home safe. Meet me Monday to talk?**

She tapped out a response, sent it, and tossed her phone to the side.

**Sure. See you in the library.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm working out the details of the plot, since I've never really done anything quite like this story before, so fingers crossed I get it figured out! Thank you for reading! :)


	6. you're the kind of reckless that should send me running

Karen’s aunt begged her to stay home from school on Monday, but Karen knew it wouldn’t be any better if she waited. Everyone already knew something had happened; hiding from it would just make the rumors swirl faster around her.

When she got to her first class, Karen almost wished she had listened to her aunt. Whispers hissed around the room, quieting when she walked by. She felt people staring at her all day, and tried to walk as evenly as she could, despite the pain in her ribs. The last thing she needed was to feed into the rumors by limping or showing her pain on her face.

Frank didn’t say a word to her during class, but by the end of the day, Karen was burning to know what he had found out. Maybe he knew who had attacked her. Maybe he had figured out who Micro was. The only way to find out was to find him.

He was nowhere to be seen when Karen got to the library, so she sat at their usual table and waited. She had some reading to do herself, and she was so engrossed in the story of Gatsby and Daisy, she didn’t even hear him approach.

“Karen?” he said, waving a hand in front of her eyes. Karen jumped and the book fell out of her hands. “Sorry,” Frank mumbled. He picked up the book and set it on the table. “Never read that one. Any good?”

“Yeah. So far.” Karen shrugged. “How’s it going, Frank?”

He sat across from her. “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine. Minor concussion, a couple of bruised ribs. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Good.” He looked down at his hands. “Your folks seem nice. You live with your aunt and uncle?”

“Yeah.” Karen nodded. “Yeah. I just call them my parents. It’s easier. Moved down here from Vermont when I was a kid.”  
“How come?”

Karen shifted a little, wincing at the dull ache in her side. “Just needed a change of scenery.”

Frank stared at her and Karen sighed. It was impossible to lie to him, but she just couldn’t find the words to talk about it right now.

“Can we talk about this another time?”

He nodded. “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “I went back. After.”

Karen leaned closer. “And?”

“And they were gone. Didn’t hit them hard enough, I guess. Should have made sure they’d stay down.”

“Do you know who they were?”

Frank shook his head. “I have some ideas. Can’t prove it, though. Nobody had bruises I could see. Couple people out today, though.”

“What are they doing, whoever they are?”

“I’m working on that.”

“So, what did you want to talk about, then?”

“Karen,” he sighed, a frown etched into his face. “I thought you were going to let this go.”

“No. You told me to let it go. So did they. I never said I would. Something is going on here, Frank, and beating them up isn’t going to stop it. We have to expose them. Do this the right way. If you want to talk, talk to me about what you know.”

His scowl darkened and his fist clenched against the wooden top of the table. “I told you, I’m working on it.”

“I know. But I can work on it too. Maybe together, we can stop them.”

“They’ll come after you again.”

Karen shook her head and leaned closer to him. “I know. That’s why I’m not going to be advertising I’m still working on it. The paper will publish other things until I’m sure we have all the information, but I’m not going to just let this go.” She folded her arms over her chest and sat back, studying his face. “So, will you help me or not?”

Frank sighed, expression softening. “Yeah, I’ll help you. Of course, I’ll help you.”

Karen nodded. “Okay. Can you help me with something else?”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Can you teach me to fight?”

Frank sat back in his chair so hard he almost knocked it backwards. “What?”

“I want to be able to defend myself. I can’t…I won’t…” she trailed off. Tears sprang to her eyes and she looked away.

“You’re injured,” Frank said softly. “You’re hurt. You can’t fight. Not now.”

“Frank,” Karen whispered. “Please.”

She looked up at him through the hair that had fallen over her face, saw the storm in his dark eyes. He nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Frank insisted that they wait until she had the all clear from her doctor to start training, but as soon as they told her she could, she met him at a dingy boxing gym a dozen blocks from school. She entered cautiously, greeted by the thud of punching bags and the clink of chains and weights. From what she could see, she was the only girl there.

“Karen,” Frank said, touching her arm gently. She jumped, clutching her bag to her chest. He looked her over and grunted. “Follow me.”

She followed Frank to a back corner of the gym, away from the muscle-bound men pounding away on the heavy bags in the front. She felt them staring at her, or maybe they were looking at Frank, wondering what he was doing with a skinny, gangly, pale girl in old yoga pants and a worn t-shirt.

“You ever hit anything before?” he asked her. Karen shook her head. “Make a fist.” She did, and Frank adjusted her fingers gently. “Never put your thumb inside your fist. You’ll break your thumb.” Karen nodded. “Now, punch my hand.” Karen did as he said. His hand didn’t move. “Use your whole body.”

He showed her what he meant, landing a heavy punch on the bag next to him. His torso twisted and his weight shifted. The bag flew back several inches.

“Try again.” Karen imitated what Frank had done and this time, when her fist connected with his palm, it moved.

“I did it!” Karen said. Frank nodded.

“You did. Now do it again.”

After she had mastered the mechanics of punching, Frank showed her how to wrap her fingers with tape to avoid splitting the skin on her knuckles. His hands were practiced, moving quickly over hers to wrap them tightly.

He showed her how to jab, hook, uppercut, even kick. He showed her how to move her feet and she tried her best to put them together, but by the time they were finished, Karen was sweaty and exhausted. She wiped her forehead and shook her head. Frank handed her a bottle of water.

“We’ll keep practicing like this for a while. Get your strength up.”  
“And then what?”

“Sparring,” he said. “It’s different, hitting a bag or hitting a person. You need to know how to do both.”

“Where’d you learn to fight like this?”

“My dad.” He took a swig of water. “He was a Marine.”

Karen nodded and started unwrapping the tape from her hands. “Got it. Tuesdays and Thursdays work for you?”

Frank smiled. “Sure. Mondays and Wednesdays I’m busy anyway.”

Karen grinned. “Still have to read _Pride and Prejudice_.”

“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Rather teach you to fight.”

“It’s a good book,” Karen said. “I promise.”

“Yeah, okay. Believe that when I read it. You want a ride home?”

“Sure. Hope you don’t mind me getting sweat all over your car.”

Frank’s smile widened. “Don’t mind that at all, ma’am.”

It was the first time Karen had been in Frank’s car when he wasn’t driving as fast as he could. Old-school rock played softly through the speakers and his eyes focused on the road ahead. It was getting dark, and the sunset made the windows glow to each side of them. Frank mumbled along with the song on the radio and Karen stared out at the familiar streets.

“You live here long?” Frank said, turning the music down.

“Uh, yeah,” Karen said. “About seven years.”

He nodded. “Came from Vermont, right?”

“Yeah. Small town. You’ve probably never heard of it.” She swallowed, anticipating his next question. “Why’d you move here?”

“My mom got a new job.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t far to move. Just from the city.”

“And you didn’t mind moving for your senior year?”

He shrugged again. “Didn’t have much to leave behind. Not after.” The dead girlfriend. Of course. “Felt like time to move on. Get away from it.” He shook his head.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” He was looking at her now, only glancing at the road. “How would you know about that?”

Karen sighed. She had tried to avoid it, but Frank wasn’t the kind of guy to let a thing like this go. Not until he got the answers he wanted. And, after all he was doing to help her, the answers he deserved.

“My brother died when I was a kid. He was younger than me, but we were inseparable. We were playing outside. It was winter, and the lake was frozen. I went out too far and the ice cracked. I was scared to come back, and he came out to get me. He got me back to the thicker ice, but he fell through. By the time they got him out, it was too late.” Karen was proud that her voice only shook a little. She swallowed back the grief that threatened to claw its way out of her chest. “I haven’t talked about this in a long time.” Kevin’s face floated in front of her eyes, like he was hovering there, watching her.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said gently. “It’s not your fault.”

Karen shook her head. “So everyone says.”

“It’s true.”

“And when people tell you that about Maria, when that’s true too, does that help?”

Frank huffed out a grim sigh. “No.”

“Me neither.”

“Understood.”

He didn’t say anything else until they pulled up outside Karen’s house.

“Thanks for the ride. And the lesson,” she said.

“See you tomorrow,” he said. “Can’t wait to talk about this book.”

Karen stepped out of the car and waved back at him. He nodded at her and peeled away from the house, engine rumbling down the block.

She was just falling asleep after finishing her homework when she heard her phone buzz. She groaned and rolled over. When she saw the message, she sat bolt upright in bed.

**I know who Micro is. Meet me in the parking lot before school tomorrow. 6:30 sharp.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm trying not to make every chapter super plot-heavy, but I have some ideas about where I want the plot to go, and I'll keep posting about a chapter a week. Please feel free to let me know what you think with kudos or comments. I really appreciate the feedback! :)


	7. we play dumb but we know exactly what we're doing

They hadn’t talked about Micro or the football team in a while, but Karen had been running down leads when she found them. Every single one was a dead end. She couldn’t get anyone to talk to her about it, and she didn’t want to give too much away. The only person she could trust was Frank.

Karen took an early bus. It was just past six, but Frank was already there, leaning against the side of his Mustang.

“Morning,” he said, voice rough from sleep. Or lack thereof. Karen couldn’t be sure.

“Good morning,” Karen said, stepping closer to him.

“You sure you want to do this?” he said. Karen nodded. Frank pulled a folder out of the car and handed it to Karen. “Everything I know about Micro.”

Karen flipped through the pages. There were blurry photos, a few messages, and a copy of a student ID.

“David Lieberman?” Karen said. She looked up at Frank, who was staring intently at the entrance of the parking lot. “Who’s he?”

“Some computer geek. Hacker, I guess.”

“He’s a junior. At East Valley. That’s why I couldn’t find him.” Karen looked through the other papers. “He’s been sending you messages too.” It wasn’t a question, but Frank nodded.

“Yeah. Guess he figured since I was new, maybe I’d do something about it.”

“How’d you find him?”

Frank shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“I find this guy and get him to tell me what he knows.”

Karen closed the folder. “How do we do that?”

“You don’t do anything. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Then why tell me about him?” Karen said, folding her arms over her chest. “You shouldn’t do this alone, Frank.”

He scowled. “You’re not coming with me.”

“Why not? Give me one good reason and I’ll drop it.”

“Yeah, right,” Frank scoffed.

“I mean it. Why shouldn’t I come?”

“Because I will handle it.” He shifted his weight. “You don’t want to be part of this.”

“Why don’t I decide what I want to be a part of?”

“Trust me.”

“Trust _me_ , Frank. You’re not going alone.”

She stormed off, giving him no room to disagree again. Anger boiled through her veins through all of first period. She hardly even heard Mr. Urich’s lesson on the Stamp Act, but she knew enough about U.S. History that she wasn’t too worried about it. Second period was the same, though she did catch a few things about prepositional phrases and the preterite case. She’d have to get the Spanish notes from someone later.

By the time she got to Algebra, she had cooled off a little, her anger replaced with a burning curiosity. She vaguely registered Mr. O’Connor handing out a pop quiz and robotically filled in the answers. She hardly even knew what she was doing, but her paper was filled by the time the timer went off ten minutes into class.

She turned to Frank at the end of class and he looked right back at her, quirking one eyebrow. “What do you need, Miss Page?”

She chuckled. “Walk with me, Mister Castle?”

He jerked his head in a nod and followed her out of the classroom. She knew he had lunch at the same time as she did, so what would it hurt to walk together?

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked, and he looked at her sharply.

“Not here,” he said gruffly.

“After school?”

“Fine. Meet me by the car after school.”

“Not going to practice today?”

He shook his head. The scowl on her face dared her to push further. Karen chose not to. She heard him mumbling something as he walked away, shaking his head.

Karen begged and pleaded with her last period teacher to let her out early. She was so far ahead in Chemistry, it wasn’t hard to convince him. She raced down the halls, bag banging against her back. The labs were, of course, as far from the parking lot as possible, and she didn’t want to give Frank a single reason to leave without her.

This time, he came out of the school to find her leaning against the car. He shook his head as he stared her down.

“Get in,” he grunted.

He peeled out of the parking lot, past all the other students trying to get out of the school as fast as they could.

“So, how do we find this guy?” she said. “What’s the plan?”

Frank just stared straight ahead, fingers loose on the steering wheel.

“What, you’re not going to talk to me now?”

Frank’s scowl deepened. “I had a plan,” he said, voice barely above a growl.

“And?” Karen said.

“And it didn’t involve you coming with me.”

“Okay,” she said, thinking quickly. “Well, whatever the plan was, how about we find him and try talking to him first. I’m good at that.” Frank glanced at her. “And if that doesn’t work, we can do it your way. Whatever that is.”

Frank nodded. “He’ll still be at school, if my information is good.”

“Then we’ll find him.”

It took longer than Karen expected to get to East Valley High School. Afternoon traffic clogged the streets and she felt the frustration emanating off Frank. At the fifth red light, he slammed his hands against the wheel.

“He’ll be graduated by the time we get there,” Frank said.

Karen laughed softly. “You might be right.”

Finally, they pulled into the driveway of East Valley High. It looked almost identical to their school, but they had no idea where they were going. They went through the unlocked front door and Frank charged off to the left. When they ended up back where they started, Karen held up a hand against Frank’s growl of rage.

“Let’s ask someone.”

Frank shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to know we were here.”

“Well, if this guy is as good as he seems to be, he already knows. And we’ll never find him before he leaves if we don’t get some directions.”

“Fine,” Frank huffed.

Karen found her way to the office and went inside to ask.

“What did you tell them?” Frank asked, when she came back out.

“That I was looking for my cousin, in the computer lab.”

A hint of a smile crossed Frank’s face. “Good thinking.”

“See? I knew you couldn’t do this without me.” She nudged his shoulder and he coughed. She was pretty sure he was trying to cover up a laugh.

They eventually found their way to the computer lab on the other side of the school and peeked inside. A handful of scrawny guys were huddled around a computer. They looked up when Karen came in and shrank back when they saw Frank lumbering in behind her.

“Can we help you?” one small boy with wire-frame glasses said in a squeaky voice.

“Looking for David Lieberman,” Frank said, voice rumbling like thunder.

The boys looked at each other and one stepped forward, holding a slip of paper in a shaky hand.

“He left this for you.”

Frank snatched it from him, eyes tracing the words scrawled on it. He handed it to Karen and she stared down at the messy handwriting.

**Nearly caught me, huh? Good work, dynamic duo. Use these to help.**

The boy handed Karen an envelope that said “Do not open here” on the outside, in that same handwriting.

Frank gripped Karen’s arm and steered her through the hallways. She was still staring at the envelope, wishing she had x-ray vision to see what was inside. Frank was staring around them, like Lieberman was going to jump out at any second.

Finally, Frank got her back to the car and she tore into the envelope eagerly. A stack of photos fell into her lap when she tipped it towards her. They were more shots of the weight room door, but these were clearer than the first ones. Karen’s mind raced as she thought through what she would do, who she would ask, how to follow up on these images.

They were outside her house before she looked up. Frank put the car in park and leaned towards Karen.

“Think those will help?” He nodded at the photos.

“Not sure yet. I’ll have to see what I can figure out.”

“Let me see?” Karen handed over the pictures and Frank shuffled through them. He frowned. “I swear I know who this is, but it’s just too blurry. Not enough for proof.”

“I know. I’m going to see if Jessica can help. She said she couldn’t, last time, but maybe.” Karen looked in the envelope again and saw that a piece of paper was stuck inside. She pulled it out. “I thought so,” she breathed.

“What?” Frank said, still staring at the pictures. He ran a hand over his short hair.

“Drugs. That’s what they’re doing.” She showed him the paper, which looked to be a chemical analysis of an unknown substance. The results said it was some form of cocaine.

“Just have to figure out who’s doing it.”

“Exactly.” Karen tugged the pictures out of Frank’s hands and pushed them back into the envelope. “Let me know if you come up with anything else.”

“You too.” He leaned across Karen and opened the door for her. Karen could have sworn he lingered for a moment longer than necessary, but soon enough, he was back in the driver’s seat. She must have been imagining the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Good night, Miss Page.”

“See you tomorrow, Mister Castle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a plot heavy (and short-ish) chapter, and I'm still trying to figure out some details, but I hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to post the next one before Sunday. Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I really appreciate you reading and sticking with me on this. You guys are the best. :)


	8. my hands are shaking from holding back from you

Karen left the envelope in her desk, safely covered by other papers. She didn’t want to risk losing anything that could help her catch these guys. Not before she exposed them.

She was so focused on the story and how to tease out the leads she had now, she walked right into someone when she opened the door to the school in the morning.

“Matt!” she said, when she stepped back and recognized him. “Hi!”

“Karen.” He steadied her, hands lingering on her elbows for a second. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” Karen said. “Fine. You?” She hadn’t seen him since that day in her living room, except down the hallway at school. Hadn’t heard from him either.

“Good.” He shuffled his feet.

“How’s mock trial going?” They started walking down the English hallway, and Karen felt Matt tensing beside her.

“It’s not bad. Finally have enough people for all the parts. Some are doubling up, but it works. How’s the paper?” He was talking fast, words stumbling over each other.

“Working on something big,” Karen said, voice catching with excitement.

“Yeah?” He didn’t push further and Karen found herself somehow disappointed. “And how’s your tutoring going?” She heard something other than curiosity in his voice, but she couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. Frank seems like he’s doing well in English. He’s all about those themes and character development.”

“Yeah, and he did that on his own,” Karen said, through gritted teeth. “Like I told you before, I’m just keeping him on track. He hardly needs me at all, actually.”

Matt held up his hands in surrender, surprise and a little bit of disbelief evident on his face. “Okay. Sorry I said anything.”

Karen scowled, but before she could say anything else, Elektra appeared, as if out of thin air.

“Good morning, Matthew,” she said brightly. “Karen, how lovely to see you.”

“Elektra,” Karen said, nodding at her. “Have a good day, you guys.” She had meant what she said to Matt, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be their third wheel.

It was homecoming next week, and Karen nearly walked right through a banner Trish and her cheerleading friends were hanging in her rush to get away from the pair of them. She stumbled back and felt strong hands put her back on her feet for the second time that morning.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to find Frank there. He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them deep into his pockets.

“Can’t have you taken out by a poster, now can we, Miss Page?”

Karen blushed. “No. Can’t have that.”

“See you after practice? Drive you to the gym?”

“That would be great.”

Frank smiled.

“What are you guys talking about so intently?” Trish said, giving her corner of the banner to one of the other cheerleaders so she could step closer. “Homecoming, I hope.”

Karen shook her head. “Are you kidding, Trish?”

“You always ask me that, and I’m never kidding.” She looked between Karen and Frank, twinkle in her eye. “You know, why don’t you two go to homecoming together?”

Karen’s heart stopped. She glanced at Frank, and he had gone still. “What?”

“Come on. Frank is supposed to go anyway,” Trish said, raising her eyebrows at him. “He’s on the team. And it’s way more fun with a date. Trust me.”

Frank coughed. Karen couldn’t look at him.

“Just say yes,” Trish said, bright smile on her face.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Frank said, voice low. “Uh, if you want.”

Karen’s face was burning, but she jerked her head in a nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

Frank shuffled off, and Karen took a deep breath. Trish was still beaming at her, now bouncing on the balls of her feet in her excitement. Karen wished she had the power to make the ground open up and swallow her whole. Or go back in time and stop Trish from coming up with this crazy idea in the first place.

Karen couldn’t even look at Frank for the rest of the day, but she found him waiting for her at the car after practice, like usual, and he nodded at her before getting into the driver’s seat. It was a silent ride, nothing but the hum of Frank’s music between them.

When they got to the gym, Karen followed Frank to the back corner. The smell of stale sweat filled Karen’s nostrils and she wrapped her knuckles in tape, like Frank had showed her. Or, like she thought Frank had showed her, until he took the tape from her and unwound what she had done.

“You do it like that, you’re liable to break open your knuckles. Break a finger.”

His hands were warm on hers, practiced in the way they tugged the tape tight around her fingers and her palm. When he was satisfied with the first hand, he started on the second.

“Now, we’re going to start with our basic punches, okay? Jab, hook, uppercut. We’ll do kicks and footwork later.”

“Got it.” Karen nodded and squared up with the punching bag in front of her. She threw her first punch and knocked the bag back slightly.

“Ten jabs, ten hooks, then we’ll move to uppercuts.”

Karen nodded again. Ten jabs, ten hooks, ten jabs, ten hooks. When he was satisfied, Frank had her move over to the uppercut bag and had her practice as many of those as she could.

“Use your whole body,” he said. He stepped behind her and straightened her wrist. He moved it slowly upward, his other hand on her hip. He twisted her body, pressed it down and moved it the right way, and Karen felt the difference. “Now you try it,” he said, voice oddly thick.

She did, imagining she could still feel his hands on her, moving her in the way she needed to move. She nearly missed the bag on her first punch, but collected herself for the second. Frank grunted his approval of her form and stepped back around to the other side to watch her. She felt his eyes tracing over every inch of her body and shivered. It wasn’t like that, but still. It was unsettling somehow, knowing he was studying her, watching her. Something that felt like guilt stabbed through her.

She stopped punching and Frank looked at her, head cocked to the side. “You hurt?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“Need water?”  
“No.”

“Then what?” He stepped closer to her, around the bag, until he was right in front of her.

“Frank,” Karen said quietly, staring down at her wrapped hands. “You don’t have to go to homecoming with me.”

He froze again, just like he had that morning. “What?”

“I know Trish pressured you into it. She’s like that. So, if you don’t want to go with me, you don’t have to.”

“You think you’re letting me off the hook or something?” His brown eyes were filled with an emotion Karen couldn’t quite place. He took another step towards her, so close now she could almost feel the heat of him.

“Just, if you don’t want to, that’s okay. I understand.” Karen stumbled over her words, feeling more unsure than ever. She half wanted to step back, get some space, but she stayed right where she was.

“What makes you think I don’t want to?” he said, voice gravelly. His hands twitched at his sides, but Karen couldn’t look away from his eyes. His eyes, deep and intense and staring straight through her.

“What?” she said shakily. She licked her suddenly dry lips and Frank’s eyes darted down to trace the path of her tongue.

“I said, what makes you think I don’t want to?”

Karen shook her head. “Uh, just, it’s Trish, and I don’t know, it didn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

“Sure you want to go with me?” he asked, close enough she could touch him. If she wanted. Which she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He stepped back. “Now that’s settled, can we get back to your workout?”

Karen nodded, and Frank made her keep going until she wasn’t sure she could lift her arms anymore. Once her arms were hanging heavy at her sides, he had her start her kicks. Low, medium, high. High, medium, low. Over and over until she wasn’t sure how she’d walk the next day.

“Feel stronger?” he asked.

Karen shrugged. “I guess. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“Got to start somewhere.”

He drove her back to her house, mumbling along to the song on the radio, but stopped her before she got out with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Hey,” he murmured, and Karen’s breath caught in her throat. “Hey, you sure you’re okay with all this?”

“All this?” she whispered.

“Me and you. Homecoming.” He huffed out a laugh, ran a hand over his hair. “Stupid. But if you don’t want to, don’t feel like you have to. Didn’t mean to corner you back there. If you want me to let you off the hook, I will. I know I’m probably not your first choice. With Murdock and all.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to?” she said, echoing his words back at him with a smirk that she hoped covered the way her heart was racing. “Matt and I are done. Have been for a while. Why wouldn’t I want to go with you?”

His smile widened. “I don’t know, Miss Page. Like I said, stupid.”

“No. It’s not. You’re not.”

He leaned a touch closer to her, and for a moment, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he opened the door for her and she stepped out into the cool evening air. Frank nodded and peeled away from her house. She watched him go.

But she thought about what he had said. It echoed through her dreams. Dreams of brown eyes and strong hands and teeth sliding against her skin. She woke up with his words on her lips.

 _Got to start somewhere_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn't be a high school AU without a school dance, right?
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I hope you like where it's heading, and I can't wait to share it with all of you. :)


	9. i see sparks fly whenever you smile

Trish couldn’t believe it when Karen said she would go shopping with her for a homecoming dress. Karen couldn’t quite believe it either. Shopping wasn’t exactly her favorite thing in the world. She always felt so gangly and stupid in fancy clothes. She was between sizes, nothing ever fit, and she was sure she wouldn’t find anything, but it was Saturday, and they were at the mall. If she was going to go to homecoming, she had to find something.

“Try these,” Trish said, pushing a pile of different colored dresses at her. “To start.” Karen watched her flounce over to the little chair by the door of the dressing room and sit down, legs crossed daintily. “Go on,” she said, shooing Karen into the room.

Karen tried the first one, a red lace dress that came down to her knees, and stepped out of the fitting room. She twirled and Trish considered her carefully, tapping her finger on her chin.

“Cute, but I think we can do better.”

Karen groaned. The next one was a black satin sheath that clung to Karen like a second skin. If she had any curves she wanted to show off, they’d be on full display. As it was, she almost didn’t come out to show Trish, but she knew Trish would be furious with her. Not worth it.

“Oh, look at you!” Trish hooted.

Karen blushed to the roots of her hair. “Stop. I look ridiculous.”

“You do not!” Trish said, standing to join her by the mirror. “Look at those hips! And those boobs! Frank’s going to lose his mind.”

“Shut up.” Karen didn’t think her blush could get deeper, but it did. “Why isn’t Jessica here, trying on dresses with us?”

Trish laughed. “I can convince her to do a lot of things. Wear a dress and go to homecoming are not on that list.”

Karen nodded and let Trish push her back through the door to try on another dress. And another. Karen was about to give up, when Trish passed her a deep blue dress over the door. It was soft, but not shiny, fitted, but not tight. When she stepped in front of the mirror, Trish let out an audible gasp.

“That’s it. That’s the one.”

Karen looked down at the price tag. “I can’t afford this,” she said sadly, fingers smoothing the fabric over her hips. She felt like a princess, but she didn’t exactly have a royal budget to work with.

“It’s on me,” Trish said, flashing a credit card at her. “Or on my mom, at least.”

Karen carried the bag home with a little spring in her step. Trish insisted on buying her heels, too, and a pretty set of earrings that sparkled like fireworks in the light. She was trying not to get ahead of herself, but she had never been to homecoming before. Maybe it really would be fun. Only one way to find out.

* * *

On Monday, when she got to school, she found a note in her locker.

**Thought you got the message, Page. Stop investigating or you’ll regret it.**

Karen’s blood went cold. She hadn’t forgotten the men who had hurt her and threatened her. She had just hoped they had forgotten about her. She hadn’t said a word to anyone since she and Frank had gone to look for Micro.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her. Karen jumped about a foot in the air. “You okay?” Foggy was staring at her, concern in his eyes.

“Yeah. Just a little tired this morning. What’s up?” She crumpled the paper in her hand and shoved it behind her back.

“Nothing. Just hadn’t seen you in a while. What’s up with you?”

“Busy. You know. Paper. Tutoring.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

Karen nodded. She pulled random books out of her locker and started down the hallway, Foggy at her heels. She saw Frank out of the corner of her eye, but he spotted Foggy and backed away. They hadn’t talked since the gym on Thursday, and Karen’s dreams hadn’t let up at all. She woke up in a sweat most mornings, head full of images of Frank’s hands on her, his lips against her neck, her ears, her ribs.

She shook her head. There were still five full days of school before homecoming. She needed to get her head back on straight.

“Page!” Mr. Ellison called, just before the first bell. Karen smiled at Foggy and went into the classroom. “What is this?” Ellison asked, tapping a piece of paper on his desk.

“I don’t know. What does it say?”

“It says that you’re doing something you shouldn’t and that I should stop you if I don’t want you to get hurt. What the hell have you been up to?”

“Mr. Ellison,” Karen started, not sure how to begin to explain what was happening. “I’ve been working on the story you assigned me. I don’t know what that’s about.” The lies tripped off her tongue before she even knew what she was saying.

His eyebrows shot up. “So, all you’ve been working on is that story about the new pizza place opening on Main Street?"

“For this week, yes. I’ve been chasing down some leads on other stories, but nothing solid yet.”

“If you’re doing anything illegal…” he started to say.

“I’m not,” Karen interrupted. That wasn’t a lie. “Just getting tips on some things and following them.”

“You would tell me if anything was going on, right?”

Karen couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but she nodded. “Of course. Once I have something solid, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay.” The bell rang. “Get to class, Page. I expect that article by end of day.”

“You got it, Mr. Ellison.”

* * *

The rest of the week flew by. The paper came out as usual, with no sign of the investigation. Karen was careful not to look at anything suspicious or even talk to Frank for most of the week, outside of tutoring and their training sessions.

He wasn’t loving _Pride and Prejudice_ so far, that was for sure.

“What do I care if these snotty girls get married?” he said on Wednesday. “Their mom is real concerned about it, but what do I care?”

“That’s not the point,” Karen said.

“So, what is the point, Miss Page?” he said, smirking at her and folding his arms over his chest.

“The point is the classism and the sexism that keeps them from getting what they want.”

“But what they want is a rich husband.”

“Not Lizzie. She wants to be independent. To be free. To be who she is, without feeling ashamed of it.”

“Personal hero of yours?” His eyes were soft now, light with something he was holding back.

“You could say that. Lizzie is strong, she doesn’t want to get married, and she doesn’t need a man to complete her. That was a pretty bold character to write back when Austen was writing.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, it is. And it still holds up. Girls are pressured to date, get married, have babies. Even if that’s not what they want.”

“And what do you want, Miss Page?” He leaned closer. Karen tried to breathe normally.

“I don’t know yet. But I want to have the freedom to decide for myself. Not follow some preordained path that someone else decides for me.”

Frank nodded. “You got that from this book?”

“Some of it.”

He kept his opinions to himself after that, but Karen caught him smiling at her more often than usual. When it was time for him to go to practice, he hesitated.

“Take tomorrow off,” he said brusquely. He was blushing a little, eyes darting from hers to the floor and back again.

Karen blinked at him. “What?”

“Don’t want you getting bruised up and sore before homecoming.” It was the first time he had mentioned it since the week before. Karen blinked at him.

“You don’t want to train with me tomorrow?”

He grinned. “Not what I said. Just think your friend Trish might be a little put out if you’re not in perfect shape for homecoming.”

“Fat chance of that,” Karen said, looking down at her lap. She knew the dress looked good on her, but she also knew the cheerleaders had been working out and dieting to look amazing, and there was no way she could compete with that.

“Hey,” Frank said sharply. Karen looked up at him. “None of that. We can train tomorrow if you want.”

So, they did. Karen almost wished she had taken him up on his offer to skip training for a day, but the delicious burn in her muscles told her it was worth it. She already felt stronger, no matter what she told Frank. Just knowing how to punch and move her feet made her feel more secure. She felt the workout in her bones when she lay in bed and she managed to sleep without dreaming about him for the first time in a week. When she woke up, she was almost sad not to feel that pull. That ache. That need.

* * *

The football game was on Friday for homecoming, the dance on Saturday, and Karen felt like a ball of nerves all day Friday. She had just seen Frank the day before, had just punched and kicked and followed his directions until she could hardly see straight, but it was different. They didn’t mention it all day, but it hung over every word of their conversations. They were going to homecoming together.

“You coming to the game tonight?” Frank mumbled to her, walking beside her to the cafeteria. He stumbled over the words a little, like he was trying to act casual and not quite making it.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, studying the way his face relaxed into half a smile.

“Good.”

He left her to sit with Foggy and Jessica, but that word echoed in her mind. It was good. Frank thought it was good. Frank wanted to see her, outside of tutoring and the gym and school.

“What are you smiling about?” Jessica said, one eyebrow arched.

“Nothing.”

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the dance tomorrow, could it?” Foggy said, smirking at her.

Karen blushed. “No. It couldn’t. And it’s none of either of your business, anyway. You’re not going.”

“No, but you are,” Jessica said. “Trish told me all about the _amazing_ dress you got and how I should really have gone shopping with the two of you.”

“Shut up,” Karen said, but she couldn’t even scowl over the smile that broke across her face when she caught Frank’s eye from across the room. He didn’t look away. Neither did she.

“If I go to the game tonight, are you going to be mooning all over your boy?” Jessica said, waving a hand in front of Karen’s face.

Karen’s cheeks burned again, and she shook her head. “You’re coming to the game?”

“Yeah. My editor is making me take sports pictures.” Karen burst out laughing at the sarcasm dripping from Jessica’s voice.

“I remember you volunteering to take whatever pictures we needed,” Karen reminded her. “And I just suggested that it might be good to have action shots to go with Curtis’ recaps.”

Jessica waved a hand at her. “Whatever. Meet me at the stadium at seven.”

Karen did. Jessica needed to be down on the field, and Karen accompanied her. She told herself it was so that she could be sure Jessica got the shots they needed, but even she knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Jessica always got good photos. She had never needed Karen’s help before. But she didn’t complain either, and the smirk on her face told Karen she knew why she was really there.

Karen had tried not to overthink her outfit, because it was October, so it was chilly and a little windy. The knit hat she was wearing had been a gift from her mom a few years before. It was a pretty blue, and it kept her ears warm. She had gone to the trouble of putting on some makeup and straightening her hair, but the cold was pinkening her cheeks anyway, and her hair was wild in the breeze.

Her heart leaped in her chest when the team was announced. They thundered out onto the field and Jessica’s camera clicked beside her. She saw the rush of faces racing through the banner, and then she saw Frank. He had black streaks on his cheeks like warpaint and he was roaring with the crowd, thumping his chest.

“I’m going to get some sideline shots,” Jessica said, jolting Karen out of her thoughts. “You coming?”

Karen glared at the smug smile on her face, but she followed her anyway. The offense was on the field, and Karen knew she should try to pretend like she was interested in the game, but she was searching for Frank and she knew it.

Jessica did too, because she led Karen right to where he was standing. His eyes were focused on the field. He was yelling something at the refs, but he seemed to sense her presence, because he glanced to the side and spotted her.

“Karen?” he said, eyebrows knitting together. He glanced back at the field, but all his attention was on her. “What are you doing down here?”

“Paper stuff,” she said, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Jessica needed to get some photos.”

He smiled. “Cool.” He looked like he was about to say more, but one of the coaches grabbed his shoulder and shoved him towards the field.

“Stop talking to your girlfriend, Castle, and go play!”

His smile widened and he pulled on his helmet, eyes on Karen until he reached his position. She watched as he raced around the other players to drive the quarterback into the ground. The ball was loose and he grabbed it, running down the field for a touchdown.

The crowd was deafening, and Frank was soon mobbed by his teammates in the end zone. He jogged back to the sideline, still holding onto the ball.

“Can you stay all game?” the coach who had yelled at him said to Karen. She blushed and shrugged. “Good play, Castle.”

“Thanks.” He handed the ball to Karen. “Here.”  
“Don’t you want to keep it?”

He shrugged. “Not my first time on the sidelines. It’s yours.”

Karen held it to her chest. “Thanks.”

He nodded at her and watched as she left to rejoin Jessica down the field. If she stayed there, she might do something stupid, and the last thing she wanted was to do something that would make Frank reconsider taking her to homecoming after all.

* * *

“It doesn’t mean anything. It's just a dance,” Karen muttered to herself, pulling the straps of the dress up high enough that they wouldn’t fall off her shoulders as soon as she moved. She slipped her feet into the heels and tottered out to face Trish.

“Sit,” she commanded. Jessica sat on the dresser across from them, watching with an amused smile on her face.  
“Shut up,” Karen hissed. Jessica’s smile only grew.

Trish had more makeup than she could possibly use, and it seemed to Karen that she was determined to put all of it on her face. Trish already had a lovely smoky eye and vampy lip, but Karen hated to even wonder what she was doing to her.

When she was finally allowed to look at herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her hair was loose and natural. She had insisted on that. But her face. Her eyes. For the first time in her life, Karen actually felt as beautiful as her aunt always insisted she was. Her eyes looked bigger than they were, which was a feat, since they were already too big for her face, but they looked soft, sophisticated. And the pink on her lips looked like she had just been kissed.

“You like it?” Trish said, looking at her expectantly.

“I love it.” Karen hugged Trish and she spun them around. Jessica rolled her eyes.

“Have fun, ladies,” she said dryly, sliding off the dresser and slinking out of the room.

“Ignore her,” Trish said. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

Trish’s mom drove them to the dance, and Karen felt her palms growing sweaty as they pulled up outside the venue. She had managed to stop her aunt from insisting on photos, but there was still so much that could go wrong. What if Frank didn’t show? What if he really didn’t want to do this?

Taking a deep breath, Karen reminded herself that he hadn’t taken the chance to back out. He even almost said he _wanted_ to take her to the dance. And he gave her that football. While she waited with Trish, she tried to listen to the conversation Trish was having with her cheerleading friends, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the door.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Frank stepped through the doors with a few of his football buddies. He was laughing at something one of them said, but when he saw her, he literally stopped in his tracks. His smile faded, then grew again, shining across his face as he moved towards her.

“Karen,” he murmured. “You look…” He took her hand and she shivered. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she said, blushing. “So do you. Handsome, I mean.”

Frank laughed softly and shook his head. “Thanks. Shall we?” He put one hand on the small of her back and she followed his lead. His body was like a furnace against hers, heating her all the way through.

He led her straight to the dance floor. There was a table with punch and some light snacks, but Karen wasn’t sure she would ever want to eat or drink again. Not while Frank was looking at her like that.

“Dance with me?” he said, mouth against her ear so she could hear him over the pounding music. Karen shivered again and nodded.

Frank took her hands and draped them around his neck. His hands fell to her waist and he pulled her closer to him. His body swayed against her and she followed him. She would follow him wherever he led her, as long as he kept his hands on her.

The song ended, followed by an even slower one. Karen pressed closer to Frank, her chest against his. He stiffened slightly, but didn’t pull away.

“Is this okay?” she asked quietly, murmuring into his ear. He looked at her sharply.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Okay for you?”

Karen nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. His arms tightened around her waist and she lost herself in the music and the closeness of him. She could smell his cologne all around her and feel his hands on her. Her dreams had nothing on the reality.

The song changed again, to a faster, poppier song, and Frank pulled back slightly.

“Take a break?” he said, not quite looking at her. She nodded and he took her hand to lead her off the dance floor.

“Karen,” a familiar voice said.

“Matt,” she replied. “You look nice.” He did, in a fitted suit that looked custom-made for him. “Elektra here?”

“She had to powder her nose.”

Soon enough, she appeared in the doorway, in a slinky red dress slit up to there. She made her way over to them, crowd parting before her like the Red Sea.

“Matthew. Karen.” She held out her hand to Frank. “Elektra. And you are?”

“Frank,” he grunted. “Karen, walk with me?”

She nodded. She glanced back to see that Matt and Elektra were already wrapped up in each other. Frank hadn’t given Elektra a second glance.  
“You okay?” Frank asked, eyes intent on her face.

Karen blinked. “What, because of them? Yeah, I’m fine.”

Frank scoffed. “It’s okay, you know.”

“Frank,” Karen said, stopping once they were outside and alone. She took his hands and looked at him. “I don’t know what you think, but I’m really happy to be here. With you.”

A smile startled onto his face and he looked down. “Yeah, uh, me too.”

“Really?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You really don’t know?”

Karen blushed under the intensity of his gaze. “Know what?”  
He shook his head. “You know, for a smart girl, you’re really not so observant.”

“What are you talking about, Frank?”

Before he could answer, a few of his football buddies trickled out of the dance and pulled him away from her.

“Come on, Castle. We need the Punisher for a minute.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, eyes never leaving Karen’s face as they dragged him backwards. “I promise.”

She waited for him. She heard the dance winding down and he still wasn’t back. When Trish came out and asked if she wanted a ride home, she almost said yes. But Frank wouldn’t just leave her like that. Not with their conversation unfinished. Not when he promised to come back.

Finally, Matt and Elektra trailed out of the dance. Matt came right over to Karen, concern on his face.

“Karen? What are you still doing here? Where’s Frank?”

“I don’t know,” she said, voice cracking a little. “I think something’s wrong.”

“Come with us,” Elektra said, in a crisp, efficient voice. “We’ll figure it out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate leaving chapters on a cliffhanger, but this one seemed like it called for it. And now we get to see Matt and Elektra to the rescue!
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and kudos-ing. You guys are the best and it's so awesome to be part of such a great fandom. :)


	10. we need love, but all we want is danger

Karen realized later, when she was comfortably seated on Elektra’s plush leather couch, that she probably should have just called the police. She was so used to taking care of things herself, it didn’t even occur to her.

And what would she say? My friend, my date, not my boyfriend, we haven’t even kissed yet, we haven’t even acknowledged any of the things we might both feel, is missing? His friends from the football team dragged him away, but he promised to come back? He wouldn’t promise and then not come back? They would laugh her out of the station.

Elektra and Matt, on the other hand, were very intent on what Karen had to say. It all came pouring out, the messages from Micro, the pictures, the drug analysis. And, of course, what really happened after that stupid party. They listened attentively, even intently. Matt started pacing halfway through her retelling. He wouldn’t look at her.

When Karen was finished, Elektra sat beside her and took her hand. “Karen, listen to me. You need to stay here. We’ll call you when we find him.”

“How are you going to find him?”

“Well, based on what you said, they probably took him to the same place they took you. They don’t sound especially creative.” She looked up at Matt. “But we’ll find him.”

“I can help,” Karen said quietly. “I’ve been learning to fight. Frank’s been teaching me.” Her voice caught on the last few words and she swallowed hard.

“Frank’s been teaching you to fight?” Matt said sharply. “Why would he do something like that?”

“Because I asked him to.”

Matt scowled. “It’s not safe. You should stay here.”

“I want to find Frank.”

Elektra squeezed Karen’s hand. “I promise you, he’ll be in good hands.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Karen said, pulling her hand away. “But why should the two of you go? Matt’s blind, and you’re smaller than me.”

They shared a strange look, and Karen felt unease welling up in her stomach.

“We’ve had some…training,” Matt said tentatively.

“How is that possible?”

“We will explain everything when we get back, but we’re wasting time here.” Elektra stood, crossed the room, and pulled out two knives that looked dangerously sharp. “Karen, lock the door behind us and don’t open it for anyone.”

“What about your parents?” Karen hadn’t seen anyone since they got to the house.

“Gone to Austria for a week. No one but Matthew and I will be coming back here, and we won’t come back until we find him. Okay?”

“Please, Karen,” Matt pleaded.

Karen nodded, though she gritted her teeth against it. The last thing she wanted was to pace around this empty house, wondering what was happening. She knew she could help and she hated being sidelined, but she was overruled.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Elektra said, swaying over to the door and looking back at her. “Plenty of food and drink in the fridge, and all the premium channels you could ask for.”

Before Karen could reply, they were gone. They were gone, and all she could do was wait. She turned on the TV, but she could hardly even register the images on the screen. Her brain kept supplying her with images of Frank beaten, bruised, dead.

“No,” she said firmly to the empty room. “No. He wouldn’t leave me like that. He can’t.”

She finally started to doze around three in the morning, but every time her eyes closed, she saw Frank and shot awake again.

Finally, just as the sky was turning grey before dawn, the door banged open and Elektra stumbled in, blood spattered on her clothes and hands.

Every image of Frank that had passed through her mind was nothing compared to the reality of this. Karen was in front of Elektra before she knew she had stood up. It was like she had lost control of her body entirely.

“Where is he?” Karen said, voice catching.

“The hospital. Matthew is with him. Let’s go.”

“Who did this?”

“Not sure. They were gone by the time we got there,” Elektra said. “Or hiding. We haven’t found them yet. We just had to get Frank out of there.” She nodded at the door. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Karen hardly even noticed the shiny sports car or the new car smell. Everything was a blur until they screeched into the driveway of the hospital. Karen threw herself out of the car before Elektra even put it in park. She hurtled towards the front desk and knew she must look completely unhinged. She wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t true.

“Frank Castle?” she wheezed. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

“Third door on the right.”

Karen tried to collect herself outside the door, but her hands were shaking as she turned the handle. The room was dark. Matt stood at the end of the bed, silhouetted by the fluorescent light over the bed. Frank lay on the bed, face bruised and stitched. There was still a little dried blood under his nose, and one of his eyes was so swollen she wondered if he would be able to see out of it.

Karen moved closer to the bed. Frank’s eyes were still closed, and she swallowed the sob that bubbled up in her throat. She took his hand and his head turned towards her. His eyes opened halfway, and she didn’t know if he was even able to see her.

“Karen,” he whispered. His voice was so low Karen almost wasn’t sure she heard it at all. “Karen. Karen.”

She squeezed his hand and brought it to her lips, not even thinking about it. She held his rough hand tight and refused to let go, even when a nurse came in to check his vitals. Even when Matt cleared his throat uncomfortably behind her.

She hardly looked up when Matt slipped out a few minutes later, door clicking shut behind him. He was limping a little, and Elektra had looked a little shaken. Karen still needed to find out what exactly they meant by “training.” For now, though, it could wait.

When Frank woke up for real, several hours later, it took him a moment to figure out where he was. He blinked, eyes landing on each corner of the room, the IV next to him, and then finally, Karen.

“Karen,” he said, voice cracking. He tried to sit up, but grimaced.

“Lay still,” Karen said, breathing deeply to keep her voice from shaking. Frank’s hand brushed her cheek and he frowned.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“What?”

“I should never have dragged you into this. You should stay away from me.”

“A little late for that, Frank,” Karen said, tears springing embarrassingly to her eyes.

“I mean it,” he breathed. “You have to get away from this. Away from me.” Every word sounded like it was being ripped out of his chest, one syllable at a time.

“And if I don’t?” Karen said.

His face shut down, like there was nothing behind his eyes. None of the warmth and goodness she knew was in there. “Then I’ll stay away from you.”

He pulled his hand away from her face and stared up at the ceiling.

“You can’t mean that.”

“Oh, I mean it,” he said robotically.

“What about tutoring?”  
His eyes slid over to meet hers, but they were empty, hollow. “I think we both know I don’t need that. Not really.”

She couldn’t really argue with that. “Who did this, Frank?”

He shook his head. “Stay out of it, Miss Page.”

Karen blinked at him. “No.”

“You should go.”

“What about training?”

He looked down at his feet, covered in the gray hospital blanket. “Someone else can train you.”

“Who?”

“I’ll find someone. Curtis, maybe. He’s a decent fighter. Good guy.”

“No.”

He looked at her again, his eyes a little glossy. “Karen.”

“Frank.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you won’t do it, I guess I’ll just stop.” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, and she knew he had his reasons, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let him get out of this that easily. Not after all this.

“No,” he said, face pained. “No. You have to be able to protect yourself.”

“Then train me.”

He sighed and scrunched his eyes closed. “Fine. But that’s it. No more tutoring. And you get yourself to the gym.”

“Deal,” Karen said. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had just agreed to, but it was better than nothing.

“Deal. Now, please, go home.”

She stood, staring down at him in the bed. Even swallowed up by the hospital bed, he was imposing. Those dark eyes followed her out of the room. Karen felt him watching her as she left, and the feeling lingered until long after she was home, in her own bed, trying to sleep despite the sun streaming through the window and the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

Karen slept until just past noon. She didn’t dream.

When she woke, she felt like she had been run over by a truck. She shuffled down the stairs, still wrapped in her blanket.

“You okay, Kare?” her aunt asked, poking her head into the kitchen while Karen poured herself a bowl of cereal.

Karen grumbled something back at her and leaned against the sink. She brought spoonful after spoonful to her mouth, but she couldn’t even taste it.

“You got in so late. Is everything alright?” Karen shrugged. Her aunt leaned closer to look her in the eye. “Is it Matt?”  
Karen laughed. It was short and harsh, ripped out of her in a voice that wasn’t hers. “No. It’s not Matt.”

“Is it Frank?”  
The laugh died in her throat. “No. Not Frank either.” She couldn’t quite meet her eyes when she said it.

“But you’re alright?”

Karen nodded, scraping the bottom of the cereal bowl. She rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. Without saying anything further to her aunt, she went back up the stairs and sat in front of her computer. She stared at a blank screen, the cursor blinking at her, taunting her. She didn’t even have anything to say. It was just what she did. She wrote.

She eventually gave in and typed what she was really curious about into the search bar on her browser.

“Who are you?” she whispered to a picture of David Lieberman. It was a photo of the same curly-headed kid in the ID photo, but this one showed him winning an award for something. Karen squinted at the text on the banner behind him. “2017 Coding Championships.” She opened a new tab and searched for it. According to the website, the 2018 championships were happening that weekend. At East Valley High.

Karen was on her feet and dressed in minutes, throwing herself down the stairs and out the door. It would be quicker if she had a ride, but the bus would have to do. Looking at her watch, she hoped the event wouldn’t be over by the time she got there.

When the bus finally got there, there were still a handful of cars in the parking lot. Karen just had to hope one of them belonged to David Lieberman. Or his parents.

She slipped into the back of the auditorium. A few gangly boys and two girls sat at computers, typing madly. Their screens flashed up onto the projector every thirty seconds or so. Karen had no idea what any of it meant, but she spotted Lieberman at the right end of the stage, tapping away on a keyboard with the rest of them. She slid into a seat and kept her eyes on him. He won again, and when he left the stage, Karen stood and blocked his exit.

His eyes widened and he tried to back up, but Karen shook her head.

“We need to talk.”

He jerked his head and led her to an empty classroom. “Thought you’d be busy with your boy Frank.”

“Not exactly.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Something happened and you’re going to help me figure it out.”

“Thought I already did that.” He smiled nervously. Karen didn’t return it. “Okay, what can I do to help West Valley’s ace reporter?”

Karen took a breath through her nose. “First of all, what are these cryptic messages all about?”

“I thought they were extremely clear. Between you and Frank, you have all the pieces.”

“Okay, but why did you send them to us?”

His eyebrows shot up towards his curly bangs. “I thought that was obvious too. Your piece on the prom court scandal last year and Frank’s outsider status made you both pretty clear choices. The connection between you was, let’s say, something of an orchestrated coincidence.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means, the football coach didn’t know a thing about Frank’s English grade last year until he got a very convincing email from his former English teacher about a week before school started.”

“You set us up,” Karen said.

Lieberman nodded. “Yeah. Seemed like the best way to get this thing done.”

“And if, say, Frank and I aren’t exactly speaking right now, what pieces am I missing?”

“Hypothetically?”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Sure. Hypothetically.”

“You want names.” He folded his arms over his chest. “The pictures weren’t enough?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not clear enough. I need something solid.”

He went over to the computer on the teacher’s desk and turned it on. He tapped in a password and started typing so fast, Karen could hardly see his fingers. Whatever he had done in the competition was nothing on this.

He turned back to her when a video came up on the screen. It was the coach’s office. Coach Rawlins and Coach Schoonover. Heroes of West Valley High. Architects of more undefeated seasons than any coaches before them. It didn’t make sense that they were at school on a Sunday. They both looked cagey, like they were worried about being overheard.

“Russo’s getting a little nervous,” Schoonover said, voice low. Karen could see shadows through the windows of the office. No one else was there.

“Did you remind him that it’s not up to him?” Rawlins said, not even looking up from the game tape he was watching.

“Of course, but there’s risk here. Between Castle and that little reporter girl, we could be in real trouble.”

Rawlins waved a hand. “You’re worrying over nothing. Castle isn’t going to say or do anything now, and he won’t be helping that girl either. Not if he wants to stay at this school.”

“What if she figures it out on her own? She was on the damn sidelines last game. What if she hears something?”

“Then we remind her again to keep it to herself. There’s no proof. She can’t report something that isn’t happening, right?”

Schoonover nodded and shrugged his shoulders back, standing at attention. “Understood.”

“We took care of Castle. He knows he’s off the team if any of this leaks. And if he’s not on the team, then I guess he probably shouldn’t be here. Maybe he belongs in jail, all the things he’s done. Who knows?” He said it so casually. Like he wasn’t threatening to send Frank to jail if he didn’t fall in line.

Lieberman, Micro, tapped the keyboard again and the screen disappeared.

“You recorded all that?”

“Yeah,” he said, tapping the keyboard again. “Just sent it to you. Along with a few other thing I think you’ll find interesting.”

“Really? How?”

“It’s not that hard,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Schools have shitty protection because they don’t know what they’re doing.” He raised an eyebrow. “If that’s all…”

“Oh, uh, sure. Thanks.”

“Take them down, Page.”

She nodded and started for the door, but hesitated. “Why are you doing this?” she said.

“Justice, Miss Page.”

“Come on,” Karen said, folding her arms. “That’s not a reason.”

“They hurt some of my friends. My family. They need to pay for that.”

“Understood.” He nodded at her again and she left the way she came in.

When Karen got home, she found files upon files of information in her inbox. Sighing, she started to sift through it, and soon, the blank page she had been staring at for weeks was filled. She didn’t even look at it again before sending it to Mr. Ellison. He had to print it. He just had to.

* * *

On Monday, Karen was called to the office.

“Miss Page, please come in.” Ms. Reyes, the principal, held the door for her. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Karen shook her head. Ms. Reyes sat behind her desk and steepled her fingers.

“Mr. Ellison received an interesting story for the school paper over the weekend. When he got to school, he brought it directly to me.”

Karen took a breath and tried to keep her face still. “Okay.”

“Do you know what the article was about?”

Karen shrugged.

“It was a very inflammatory piece about two of our most successful football coaches. It accused them of selling drugs, intimidating students, and sanctioning violence.” Karen nodded. She tried to swallow over the lump growing in her throat. “Does any of that sound familiar to you?”

She shrugged again.  
“Miss Page, the story came from your email account.”

She nodded again.

“Did you write it?”

“So, what if I did?” Karen sat up a little straighter, held her head high.

“You know we can’t publish that in the school paper, right?”

“Why not?” Karen scowled at her. “It’s the truth.”

“And you’re a student. I’m not going to have my coaches dealing with this in the middle of an undefeated season.”

Karen blinked at her. “What?”

“They don’t need this hassle. And, if it’s true, why didn’t you bring this to the police?”

“Maybe I should,” Karen said, folding her arms over her chest.

“I think you should turn over whatever you have to Mr. Ellison and we will deal with this internally.”

Karen laughed. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

Reyes studied her for a long moment. “Go to class, Miss Page. We’ll discuss this more in the future.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will.”

Fuming, Karen stormed down to Mr. Ellison’s classroom. It was the middle of second period, but Karen didn’t care. She would apologize to her Spanish teacher later. Right now, she needed some answers.

She banged through the door and the classroom full of seniors stared at her. She could feel Frank and Matt’s eyes on her, along with all the others, but she ignored them, focusing instead on the man cringing slightly behind his podium at the front of the room.

“Mr. Ellison,” she said, as calmly as she could manage with her voice vibrating with barely contained rage, and he nodded, eyes wide.

“Hallway, Karen.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Karen stepped back outside. Mr. Ellison closed the door behind him.

“I know you’re probably upset…” he started to say.

A sound between a scoff and a laugh choked out of her throat. “Upset?” Her voice was echoing down the hallway, but she didn’t care. Her blood was pounding in her ears. “I’m a little more than upset.”

“I know, but I had to run it by the principal, for something like that.” He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, sweat appearing on his balding forehead.

“And you couldn’t warn me before you sent it to her?” Karen hugged her arms around her middle to contain the anger threatening to explode out of her.

“I’m sorry, Karen.”

“You know, I only pursued this story because you told me to,” she spat.

“What?”

“You told me to ‘bring Karen Page’ to the paper, and that’s what I did. I investigated. I got the information. I got the proof. And now, what do I have to show for it? Nothing.” She scowled. “I trusted you.”

He stared at her. “I’m sorry, Karen.”

“So you keep saying.” She stepped away from him. “I’m late for Spanish. Find yourself a new editor.”

* * *

“Page, here,” Mr. O’Connor barked. He was standing in the back corner of the room, tapping a desk. He assigned new seats to each student. He placed Frank on the other side of the room, as far from Karen as possible.

She tried to listen to the lesson, she really did, but having Frank in front of her and her mind on the story they had broken together made it extra challenging. His face was bruised, mottled purple and yellow and green, and his knuckles were scabbed. He looked exhausted, slumped down in his seat like he couldn’t even hold himself upright.

At the end of class, she tried to get out as quickly as she could, but Frank stopped her, his hand warm and gentle on her arm.

“You okay?” he asked, brown eyes tracing her face.

“Thought you were staying away from me,” Karen said, pulling her arm away from his touch.

“Gym today?”

Karen looked at him. “It’s Monday.”

“Meet me there.”

He swept out of the room, leaving Karen more confused than ever. She hardly ate her lunch, just picked at the salad her aunt had packed her. Foggy tried to talk to her, but she felt like she was hearing him through ten feet of water. Her head was so full of worries and plans and anxieties that she didn’t understand a word he said.

The only thing she could focus on was the dark looks she was getting from the football players. They must have heard about her story. A few of them started walking towards her and she tensed, heart pounding and hands closing into fists. They veered off at the last moment, but Billy Russo’s dark eyes were focused on Karen until he was out of the cafeteria.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough. Karen knew she would get to the gym early, but she took the bus as soon as it came. She needed to get away from school as quickly as she could. She had known that when the story broke, she’d be a target, but the story wasn’t even going to come out and she still felt danger lurking in every corner.

The gym was empty when she got there, so Karen taped up her hands, remembering how Frank had done it the last time, and got started on the heavy bag.

“Pretty hard punches for such a little girl,” a drawling voice said behind her. Karen turned and saw the owner of the gym standing there. He was probably in his thirties, covered in muscle and tattoos, and he had more than a couple inches on Karen.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, turning back to the bag.

“You need some help training?”

“No. Just waiting for someone.”

“Frank?” Karen nodded. “He’s a good fighter. A little sloppy, though.” He held out a hand to her. “I’m Max.”

She shook his hand. “Karen.”

“Can I give you a word of advice?” Karen shrugged. “Square up with the bag when you hit it. You’re getting all twisted around.” He stepped closer. “May I?” Karen didn’t respond, but he put his hands on her waist anyway. “Now hit.” Karen shuddered at the hiss of his voice in her ear, but she did what he said. It didn’t feel right. “Try it again.”

“Hey!” Frank barked from the doorway. Max stepped back instantly, hands up. Frank strode across the gym, storm clouds swirling all over his scowling face.

“Frank, it’s okay,” Karen said, and he stilled. He looked at her like he was fighting to contain something threatening to explode out of him.

“Yeah. Just helping your girl until you got here.” Max smirked and headed back over to the front desk.

“You okay?” he muttered, eyes on the bag beside her. Karen nodded. “Alright, get back to it.”

He watched her punch and kick until she could hardly move. He didn’t touch her, just gave her feedback until her form looked the way he wanted.

“Okay,” he said slowly, taping his own fists. “Now, we practice a little sparring.”

Karen blinked at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He held up his fists. “I won’t punch back this time. But try to hit me.”

Karen looked down at her hands. Her mind went blank. “I’m not going to hit you. You’re still hurt.”

“Hit me,” he growled. Karen shivered. She threw a light jab at his hands. It was like hitting a brick wall. “Again.” She hit a little harder. Still nothing. “Try a hook.” He blocked it. “Come on. Hit me!”

She tried. She really did. All the fear and anger about what had happened poured out of her, but she didn’t land one punch on him. Every time she thought she could get past his defenses, he knocked her hand away.

“Good. That’s enough for today.” He backed away from her and unwrapped the tape from his hands.

“Frank,” Karen said. He shook his head and disappeared through the doors of the gym. They banged behind him and echoed against the concrete walls.

* * *

The next day, when Karen saw Matt down the hallway at the end of the day, she pushed through the people blocking her way and stood in front of him, arms folded.

“We need to talk.”

He grabbed her arm and steered her into a quiet corner of the hallway. Karen looked down at his hand, but he didn’t let go. Not right away.

“Karen. You’re okay?” It was a question, but also it wasn’t.

“Yeah, Matt. I’m fine. And you owe me an explanation.”

“I know. But I have to get to mock trial…” he trailed off, shifting his weight a little.

“No. You’re going to tell me now. They can wait.”

Matt sighed. “Karen.”

“No. I’m done with this bullshit, Matt. Tell me the truth. You owe me that.”

“She’s right, Matthew.” Elektra had appeared out of nowhere at Karen’s shoulder.

Karen tapped her foot. “So? What’s the story?”

Matt scuffed his shoe against the ground and Elektra raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well, you know we’re old friends, yeah?” Karen nodded. “Part of that is because we both know this man. He goes by Stick.”

“Stick?” Karen’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of name is that?”

“Not the point,” Elektra said crisply, eyes scanning the hallway to make sure no one was listening. “The point is, he taught us how to fight. He’s blind, and he taught Matthew how to use his other senses. Hone them. Use his hearing to ‘see’ things around him.”

“So, what, that cane is just for show?” Karen said, looking pointedly at it.

Matt had the courtesy to blush. “It makes people feel more comfortable.”

Karen scoffed. “I guess that means everything I ever knew about you was a lie.”

“No, Karen.” Matt’s voice was ragged, like he was holding back tears. “That’s not true.”

“Okay, Matt. Tell me one thing you’ve been honest with me about.”

He looked at the ground. “I did want to dance with you at that party before school started. I did.”

Karen choked down a sob that might have been a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she snapped. “Seriously? After all the time we’ve known each other, that’s all you can come up with?”

Matt shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“Does Foggy know about this?” Matt and Elektra’s silence told her everything she needed to know. “Great. Does Trish have psychic abilities or something? Jessica have super strength? Is everyone in my life lying to me?”

Before Matt could answer, Karen stormed down the hallway. Elektra called after her, but when she glanced back, she was talking quietly to Matt, hand in his. Karen’s fists clenched at her sides and she let the tears fall, hot on her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me on this one. This chapter is a little early, since I'll be away for the weekend, and it's a little longer than usual, because I couldn't see where to split it up. I couldn't just let Frank and Karen be happy right away, right? There has to be some angst and drama. It's high school, after all. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and thanks for all the kudos and comments. You guys are great. :)


	11. you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?

The intimidation from the football team continued, but they didn’t do anything to her. Ms. Reyes gave her a dirty look or two in the hallway, but didn’t say anything further. Mr. Ellison avoided her like the plague. She hadn’t heard who was going to be named editor. She found she didn’t care. She wasn’t talking to Matt or Foggy, and she kept her distance from Trish and Jessica as well. She didn’t even know how to begin to explain all this to them, and she didn’t want the questions. Frank still wasn’t talking to her, except at training, and then only to bark instructions at her. They met at the gym four days a week for the next three weeks. It was all that was keeping her sane. Making her feel safe.

She couldn’t let it go, though. This article was too important. To her, to Frank, to David Lieberman. If Ellison wouldn’t publish it, she’d find someone who would.

After fighting with herself for the rest of the week, she emailed Lieberman at the address he had used to contact her in the first place. Asked him to help her. Publish it anonymously, but somewhere everyone would see it. He said he would get right on it. Immediately. Karen sent him the article. She even added a bit to the end about how the school didn’t want it published. How the principal had tried to bury it, in favor of another undefeated football season.

And then she waited.

After another week, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, but the article was nowhere to be seen. It was like it had vanished, just like Reyes and Rawlins and Schoonover wanted. All week and into the weekend, she wondered what he was doing with it. If he was just messing with her. If, somehow, he had tricked her and he was really on their side. It had been a month since she had found out, and still no one else knew.

When she woke up on Monday, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Somehow, people knew she had done it, even though her name was nowhere to be found on the article itself. Her outburst with Mr. Ellison probably hadn’t helped. Their school wasn’t that big, and she knew she had made something of a scene in front of twenty-five seniors. And the whole hallway. Pretty easy for that to spread to the whole school.

 **Stay home,** one message said. Karen rolled her eyes when she saw who it was from.

**No, Frank.**

She could almost see him breathing through his nose and trying to keep his cool. Probably running a hand over his face.

**You’re not ready for this.**

**I’ll decide what I’m ready for. Thought you weren’t talking to me anyway.**

**Karen.**

Those two syllables were enough to make her bite back the next comment she wanted to send him and keep it simple.

**I’m tired of this game, Frank. I’ll see you third period.**

**No. I’m outside.**

Karen peeked out the window and sure enough, his black Mustang was rumbling outside her house. She pulled on clothes as fast as she could and tried to get out before her aunt or uncle saw her.

“Karen!” Aunt Cathy called after her. She held the storm door open, dishtowel in her hand. No such luck.

“I have to get to school!” Karen yelled back. “I’ll see you later!”

She jumped in the car and Frank sped away before Aunt Cathy could do or say anything else.

“That story. Why’d you do that? How’d you do it?” he demanded, as soon as they had pulled away from the house.

“You saw it?”

He laughed. “Everyone and their mother saw it. Couldn’t cover your tracks a little better?”

“It was anonymous,” she protested weakly.

His laugh sharpened until it was almost cruel. “Barely. And it was everywhere. How’d you swing that?”

“Lieberman.”

“What?” His eyebrows shot up. “What about Lieberman?”

“I tracked him down and we talked about it. He gave me everything he had and then helped me get the story out. Ellison wouldn’t publish it.”  
“That why you were yelling at him last week?” Karen nodded. “Why wouldn’t he publish?”

“Reyes wouldn’t let him. Didn’t want to mess up a perfect season.”

Frank scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

When they got to school, there were news vans from all the local stations, as well as a few from national outlets. Karen wished she had spent a little more time on her outfit or put on some makeup, but there was nothing to be done. She had to walk through the gauntlet, whether she wanted to or not.

Frank, for his part, didn’t look thrilled with the idea either. He crowded into Karen’s space, hand on the small of her back. So much for keeping his distance. Warm shivers raced through Karen’s body from the place his fingers touched her and she fought to walk normally. She heard the reporters giving background and speculating about the source of the article. It didn’t sound like her identity had leaked to the press, which was a relief.

As they approached the school, Frank’s posture got straighter, his chin higher, like he was daring anyone to say something to him about walking into the building with Karen.

No one did. The students lining the hallways parted for them. Karen heard a few whispers swirling around them. Showing up at school in the middle of all this chaos, with the Punisher at her side, was definitely one way to get noticed.

“Karen!” Foggy called from down the hall. His face was an odd, grey color, and he looked like he hadn’t slept. Karen slipped away from Frank as she hurried towards her friend. Frank followed her like a shadow.

“Foggy, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just glad to see you.”

“What happened?” Karen asked, aware of Frank looming over her shoulder.

Foggy’s eyes darted to Frank and back to Karen. “We can’t talk about it here.”

“Then where?”

“Lunch. Meet me in the music room. Alone.” He stared at her meaningfully, like she was supposed to understand something he wasn’t saying, and then backed away into the crowd.

“No way in hell you’re going alone,” Frank growled.

Karen turned to him. “I have to. Foggy wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, but whoever’s got him scared sure would.”

“I’ll be fine. We’re at school. I can defend myself.” Her reasoning sounded thin to her own ears and Frank shook his head.

“I don’t like it, Karen.” His eyes were flitting all over the hallway now, like he was trying to figure out what to break first. “You can’t go alone.”

Karen looked at him until his eyes focused back on her. “How about I meet you after? In the courtyard?” His eyes narrowed. “If I’m not back by halfway through lunch, you can come in, guns blazing or whatever.”

Frank sighed. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know. But I trust Foggy.”

The bell rang, and Frank took a step towards her, like he was going to walk her to class, but he shook his head and went the other way.

Karen was restless all morning. She felt like she hadn’t had more than a handful of days to actually learn things so far this school year. She had so many other things on her mind. Foggy, Frank, Schoonover, Rawlins, Frank, Lieberman. Ellison. _Frank_.

By lunch, she was so jittery she felt like her whole body was vibrating. She did trust Foggy. She did. But Frank’s words echoed in her head. Whoever had Foggy scared could hurt her. Wanted to hurt her, even. Had already, if it was the same people who had attacked her before.

He walked her to the lunchroom from Algebra, repeating the plan to her as though she could have forgotten. It was her plan in the first place, but it seemed to make him feel better to say it again, make sure they were on the same page. If she was honest with herself, it made her feel a little better too.

“If you aren’t outside with me by quarter of,” he said, scowl on his face. “I’m coming to find you.”

“I know. I’ll be fine, Frank.” Maybe if she said it enough times, it would be true.

He nodded. Just a single jerk of his head. Karen smiled as confidently as she could and started down the hall to the music room.

It was an odd choice of location. As far as Karen knew, Foggy had no musical ability to speak of. He didn’t play any instruments, and the one time she had heard him sing, she had begged him to never force her to repeat the experience.

She pushed open the doors and saw Foggy there, still pale and a little sweaty.

“What’s all this about, Foggy?” she said.

His shifted his weight. “You have to come forward and say you made it all up,” he said. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“If you don’t, there will be consequences.” It sounded like he was reading a hostage statement.

“Foggy, just talk to me.”

“Please, Karen.” He finally looked at her, voice shaky.

“I can’t do that. It’s true. All of it. I have evidence. And my name isn’t even on it.”

He shook his head, looking defeated. “And what good is evidence going to do? You really think anyone in this town is going to bring down Schoonover and Rawlins in the middle of football season?”

“Fuck football season!” Karen shouted. “Someone has to do something.”

“And why does it have to be you?”

Karen shook her head. “Because I’m the only one with all the information.”

Foggy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache. “Listen,” he hissed, leaning closer to her. “Listen to me. That’s what they told me to say. They also said that they’re going to go after Frank again if you don’t back off.” His voice was a low whisper, like he was trying not to be overheard.

“What?”

“Please, Karen,” he pleaded again. “If you won’t do it for yourself or for me, do it for Frank.”

He left, and Karen stood there, chewing her fingernails, until the doors banged open again.

Frank’s eyes were wild and he rushed to her, eyes tracing over her body, searching for blood or bruises or something physical to show him that something was wrong. “You okay?”

Karen nodded. “Yeah. Foggy just wanted to talk.”

“What did he want?”

“Let’s talk after school. Give me a ride home?”

He jerked his head in a nod and followed her back to the cafeteria, hand on her lower back again, like it was normal for him to do that, like that was a thing they did. He sat with her, nodding absently when Jessica and Foggy addressed him, but his eyes were scanning the lunchroom like he expected someone to jump out and grab Karen any second.

Frank walked her to her next class, hand around her waist the entire time. To anyone else, she knew it probably looked like he just wanted to touch her, like they were together like that, especially after homecoming, especially after their entrance that morning, but she knew it was just that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Karen wished it was just that he wanted to touch her. She was in way over her head now and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of this.

“Wait for me,” he whispered in her ear. Karen nodded, and tried to focus in class, but it was hard to think about American literature at a time like this.

With ten minutes left in class, not that Karen was counting, the fire alarm went off. It blared through the hallways and rang in Karen’s ears. She filed out of the classroom with her classmates and headed for the door.

Before she got there, a hand clamped over her mouth and pulled her to the side, into a bathroom. In all the chaos, no one noticed. Karen kicked and screamed against the hand over her face. She tried to bite it, but couldn’t get her teeth to take hold in the flesh. Her arms were pinned and she couldn’t maneuver enough to land a kick or a punch like she had learned.

“Alright, calm down,” a voice said in her ear. “We don’t want you. Not really.”

Other people filed into the room, masks over their faces. Karen felt like she was back in that room after the party. Her hands started to shake involuntarily.

“Now, I’m going to take my hand away. You scream, you get hurt. Understood?” Karen nodded and her captor released her. She stumbled away from him, bathroom stall at her back and hands up to protect herself. At least she wasn’t tied up this time. And she knew a lot more than she had before about how to defend herself. If she could get a few of them to leave, or distract them somehow, maybe she would have a chance. They were bigger than her, but Frank had taught her how to use that to her advantage. She took a breath to slow her pounding heart.

“Miss Page,” a familiar voice said. Rawlins. “We don’t want to do this. We don’t want anything to happen to you. But this is none of your business.”

Karen smiled. “What do you mean? What’s none of my business?”

The cold eyes behind the mask narrowed. “Don’t play coy, Miss Page. We know.”

“Fine. Then you know I have proof. And if anything happens to me…”

“What? Your little guard dog will come after us?” another voice said. Billy Russo. Star receiver. Golden boy.

“Shut up,” Rawlins hissed. “We don’t have much time.” He focused his attention back on Karen. “Since you didn’t seem to get the message the last time, let me share what will happen if you don’t back off on this.” He held up a tablet.  
Karen scanned the words, but couldn’t quite process them. Erratic behavior. Slipping grades. Quitting activities. Reckless behavior. Inappropriate environment.

“You’re going to tell my aunt and uncle to send me back to Vermont?” she said, unable to keep the horror out of her voice. “No. No, I can’t go back there.” Visions of cracking ice, whispered rumors, and her mother’s tears filled her mind. She shook her head, like that would make it go away.

He flipped to the next document on the tablet and Karen covered her mouth with one hand. “You can’t actually want to pin this on Frank. He had nothing to do with any of it. You have no way to prove it.”

“Do you want to test that theory? Castle is expendable. So are you. And his record isn’t exactly squeaky clean.”

“No. You can’t. You just can’t.”

“Then you know what to do.”

“But it was published anonymously. How am I supposed to retract it?”

“Figure it out, if you’re so smart,” Russo sneered, blurting it out before Rawlins or anyone else had a chance to speak.

Rawlins’ scowl deepened. “ _Shut up_.” The fire alarm stopped blaring and he glared at Karen. She shivered under his stern gaze. “Do it,” he said, and Karen was shoved unceremoniously back into the hallway to join the other students.

She stumbled around a corner and sank against the wall, shaking with adrenaline and fear. She found her way back to her classroom just in time for the final bell. She hardly even heard the teacher’s reprimand for not being with the rest of the class during the fire drill as she gathered her things to go to her next class.

When she stepped outside the door again, Frank was right there. He looked at her face and scowled.

“What happened?” He grasped her wrist gently and tugged her along the hallway to find a quiet corner.

“I have to go to PE,” she protested weakly, trying to go the other way, but Frank shook his head.

“Tell me,” he said, taking her hands.

“Frank, I’m fine. Really. Maybe you were right.” He blinked down at his hands when she pulled hers away. “Maybe we should stay away from each other.”

“What?”

Karen wrapped her arms around herself, like she could hold herself together. Like she could force herself not to shatter into a million pieces if she held on hard enough. “Maybe it’s better if you’re not involved in this. I can take care of it. Yeah. I can do it myself.”

“Karen, just tell me what happened.” His eyes darted back and forth between hers, growing more frantic the longer she hesitated.

She sighed. “I have to retract the story.”

“Or what?” He squinted at her. “What’s changed?”

“Rawlins is going to tell my aunt and uncle that I should go back to Vermont if I don’t,” she whispered, hardly able to say it without seeing it all happening again. She tried to swallow, but it was hard to do, around the lump in her throat.

His eyes went wide. “What? Do you think they would do that?”  
“I don’t know.” Karen shook her head and took a shaky breath.

“They couldn’t do that, could they?”

“I don’t know,” Karen repeated. “But I can’t go back there. I can’t.” Tears were threatening to spill down her face and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold them back.

“No. You won’t. And you won’t issue a retraction. We’ll figure it out.”  
“How?” Karen hardly recognized her own voice. Terror was clawing its way out of her chest and she wanted to scream.

“We will.” Frank pulled her into a hug and some of the tension in Karen’s body ebbed away. Not all of it, but enough. The bell rang and she knew she was going to be late, but it was hard to even think about PE now.

“Frank,” she said, voice raw. “They’re going to blame you. For everything.”

He pulled away, hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about me.”

“No. Listen to me. They’re going to say you started selling the drugs when you transferred here. That you hurt me. That you started all of this.” She swallowed again, remembering the worst part. “They’re going to say you killed Maria.”

Frank froze. “What?”

“They’re going to say that you faked the car accident. That you killed her over drugs or something. They made up this whole story. I only saw pieces of it.” She could see the weight of his guilt pressing down on his shoulders.

He shook his head. “No. No.” He fell away from her, staggering like he had been shot. Stabbed with the memory of his beloved girlfriend. “Come on,” he said, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? It’s fifth period, Frank,” Karen said, bewildered. “I can’t just skip class.”

He stared at her for a long moment, like he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. “We have to go. We can’t stay here.”

He took her hand and pulled her toward the door. She resisted a little, but after everything that had happened, maybe he was right. He often was.

So, she got into that damned Mustang and let Frank drive her wherever he thought they should go. She would just have to trust him. She did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting to the end of this story, just a couple more chapters to go. The next one is one of my favorites. I think it will end up being 14 or 15 chapters all together.
> 
> Thank you for reading. You're all so lovely and I'm glad you've chosen to go on this journey with me. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. :)


	12. nothing safe is worth the drive

The rumble of the car engine and the hum of Frank’s music lulled Karen to sleep. When she woke, she didn’t recognize where they were.

Frank glanced over at her when she sat up with a start, his eyes stormy with fear and concern. Karen ran her hand through her hair and stared out at the green spaces flashing by the windows. She wasn’t worried, exactly, but she was deeply curious.

“Where are we?” she said, clearing her throat against the roughness of sleep.

“Had to get you out of there,” he said. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Where are you taking me?” Karen wasn’t scared. Not really. Not with Frank.

Or, she wasn’t scared until her aunt called. She stared down at the screen for a long moment, phone buzzing against her palm.

“Hello?” she said tentatively.

“Karen, where are you?” Her aunt sounded frantic and Karen felt a stab of guilt. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even know where to begin. “Yes. I’m okay.” Frank glanced over at her and she forced herself to stare out the window. “Listen, something happened at school today, but I’m okay.”  
“Where are you? The school said you left?”

Karen glanced at Frank again, but he gave nothing away. “I’m not sure, but I’m safe. Can you call the school and excuse me for tomorrow?”

“Karen, what’s going on?”

“I promise, I’ll tell you everything when I get home, but right now, I just need you to trust me.”

Her aunt sighed and Karen clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the freak out.

But instead, her aunt agreed. Karen was stunned. “Karen Page, you will be explaining yourself for a very long time when you get home. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Aunt Cathy,” Karen said. “Thank you.”

“I love you. Be safe.”  
“I love you too.”

 She sank back against the seat and let out a long sigh.

“Everything okay?”

Karen laughed at that. Really laughed, until she was fighting tears. She couldn’t stop. The sobbing laughter caught in her throat, but just kept bubbling out until she couldn’t breathe. “Is everything okay?” she said, gasping as she wiped her eyes.

Frank wasn’t laughing. “With your aunt,” he said carefully, like she could have misunderstood.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. Where are we, Frank?”

“Somewhere safe.” As he spoke, they pulled up to a small wooden house in a copse of trees well off the main road. He opened the door for her and showed her inside, flicking the switch to turn on a dim light on the ceiling.

It was already dark inside, and it smelled a little musty. Frank pulled out a beat-up chair from the table and Karen sat on it, staring at him while he paced back and forth, checking every corner. The place wasn’t very big. It didn’t take him long. She dropped her bookbag on the floor with a soft thump. Frank dropped a mysterious duffle bag beside it.

“What is this place?”

“Hunting cabin. Fishing, sometimes.”

“Your dad’s?”

He nodded, eyes darting to each window and back to the door. “Yeah. He doesn’t use it much these days.”

“Why not?”

“Getting old,” Frank said, shrugging. “Used to bring me here as a kid all the time, though.”

“Why are we here?”

“Had to get you somewhere safe. Figure out what to do.”

Karen nodded and looked down at her hands. They were shaking again and she tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t quite get her lungs to cooperate.

“Karen. You’re safe. I promise.”

“I know,” she said softly. Frank sank to his knees in front of her and took her hands. “I know, Frank.”

“Good.” He squeezed her hands and stood again to look out the window.

“So, I have an idea,” she said quietly.

Frank took a breath and leaned against the sink, shoulders slumped. He wasn’t looking at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Karen crossed the room to look at his face. She trusted his instincts, and if he thought she was crazy, she wanted to know it. “I think we tell everyone I wrote the story.” He turned and stared at her, took a step back to consider her fully. She had never felt further away from him than she did in this moment. She hadn’t been this close to him outside the gym since homecoming.

“What?”

“I don’t know, but I think it might be safer if everyone knew it was me who wrote it. And not just the people I wrote it about.” She bit her lip and watched him process what she was saying.

“How? How would that be safer?”

“If this story gets picked up by the news or whatever, they can’t pin it on you. It will just be out there. The truth will be out.”  
“But they could still go after you. Try to hurt you.” His teeth gritted and his fingers twitched into fists at his sides.  
Karen shook her head. “No. I don’t think they will. They need this to stay quiet. But we have all the proof. We just have to get it to the right people, and they can’t do shit.”

Frank blinked at her. “There’s another way.”

“What? Fight all of them?” Karen raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Frank scowled.

“This is cleaner. Simpler.” She wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t going to get hurt again for her, no matter what he said.

“No.” His voice was a growl. “No. What’s cleaner is keeping them from doing this again. Keeping them from hurting you.”

“Frank,” she said, more gently. She fought the urge to touch him. She knew it would just make him tenser. “Do you trust me?”

Frank nodded, face softening a little. “I do.” He turned around and leaned his body against the counter. Karen studied him, the long lines of his legs crossed over at the ankles, his chest filling out his worn black t-shirt, arms braced against the counter, those eyes. Those damned eyes that made her think that maybe it wasn’t just her. That maybe, just maybe, he felt something for her other than protective instinct.

“I think it’s the best way. The only way, really.”

“So, how do we do that?” he said. “You don’t have all that stuff with you, do you?”

“No.”

He scoffed and held his hands out like he had proved his point.

“I don’t have it with me, but Lieberman does.”

Frank froze, looking thoughtful. He bit his lip, like he was trying to stop himself from saying anything. “Should have thought of that,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I guess it’s not the craziest thing we could do.”

“No crazier than running away to a cabin in the woods, right?”

He smiled, despite himself.

Karen hurriedly typed out an email to their source and waited for a response. Five minutes went by. Then ten. Then thirty. None came.

“What do we do now?” she whispered, staring at the phone.

“We wait,” Frank said.

“What if they got to Lieberman?” Karen needed to sit down. She sank onto the creaky bed and focused on a scratch in the floor while she breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth. Just like that therapist after her brother told her to do when she felt the anxiety rising. The one her mom had insisted she see. The one who helped the nightmares go away. At least for a while. Until they were replaced with all of this.

“Then we find another way.”

Karen shuddered to think what that would look like. This had been her idea, but if it all blew up in her face, she knew Frank wasn’t going to stop until he stopped them. Her aunt and uncle might have sent her back to Vermont by then. And he might be in jail. Tears welled in her eyes.

“He could wipe everything. Pretend he doesn’t know anything.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Why not? He was pretty vague when he told me why he was doing this.”

Frank kneeled in front of her again. His eyes anchored her, kept her from spinning completely out of control. His hands were heavy on her knees. “He told me a little about it.”

“When?” As far as Karen knew, they had never even met. He didn’t even like this plan, but here he was, comforting her with what he knew.

“At the beginning. I wanted to know what was in it for him. Why he was sending me messages.”  
“And?”

“His family was caught up in all this. His brother got hooked on whatever they’re selling. He had to leave his girlfriend because he was getting too close to it and she was in danger. He wants these guys as badly as we do. He’s not going to give in just because they pressure him. If they even manage to find him.”

Karen relaxed a little, and her phone buzzed. She nearly dropped it in her hurry to open the email.

**Got it. Lay low. I’ll handle this. – Micro**

“There. You see?” Frank said. Karen couldn’t help herself. In her excitement, she leaned forward and kissed him. Just a quick press of her lips to his. Over so fast, she almost thought she imagined it.

She froze when she realized what she had done. He wasn’t moving, but he wasn’t pulling away, either. His eyes were open, fixed on hers.

“Frank,” she whispered.

His tongue traced over his lips and he was looking straight through her. He let out a sigh and pulled her face to his. His lips were warm and soft on hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Karen felt heat crackling through every one of her nerves. Her fingertips trailed over his short hair and she ended up on the floor, kneeling between Frank’s legs.

His fingers tangled in her hair and he pressed his forehead to hers. He was breathing hard. So was she.

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Karen,” he said softly.

“Frank,” she murmured back.

They stayed there for a long moment, breathing together, and Karen wished they could stay there forever.

“Think we should take a break,” Frank said, wrenching himself to his feet.

“And do what?” Karen asked. It was already getting dark and she knew what she wanted to be doing. It had nothing to do with getting up, or leaving their place on the floor.

Frank grinned and pulled out a roll of fighting tape.

* * *

It was different, sparring with him this time. He didn’t hold back. But when he blocked her, his hands lingered. When he pinned her after she tried to land a kick, he didn’t move right away to pull her to her feet, like he usually would.

He pushed the hair out of her face and stared down at her, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. Like he couldn’t believe he could touch her like this. Like he had dreamed about this too.

His fingertips were rough against her skin and she leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. She couldn’t quite believe it either. She was sure she was about to wake up, find out her mind had created this fantasy.

But when her eyes opened, Frank was still there, kissing her forehead before lifting himself up. He took her hands and she stood, wrapping her arms around him.

“I think that’s enough practice for today,” she said, and he nodded, arms circling her waist. She leaned up and he kissed her again. Her teeth grazed his lower lip and he groaned, holding her so tight to him, Karen almost couldn’t breathe.

She didn’t care. The reality was so much more than her dreams. His mouth blazed a white-hot trail down her neck. His tongue swirled against her skin. He nipped at the skin behind her ear and Karen’s whole body shook.

“Karen,” he mumbled against her neck, just before his teeth sank into her skin. She hissed and pressed her hips against him. He was hard against her, strong. “Karen,” he said again, pulling away a bit.

“Frank?” she said, hearing the neediness in her own voice like she was listening to someone else. Her heart was racing, and it was like she was having an out-of-body experience. The sensation of his hands on her was too much to process. She had wanted this. Dreamed about it. And now, she was frozen.

“Hey, I don’t want to rush this,” he said, kissing her cheek and brushing over the spot with his thumb. “We don’t have to rush this.”

Karen let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “I know.”

Frank led her over to the bed and lay back, pulling her to his side. Karen lay her head on his chest and listened to his heart thumping inside his chest. His fingers trailed absently through her hair and she felt his lips against the top of her head. She traced patterns in the fabric of his shirt and he hummed a tune she couldn’t name.

The warmth of him, the vibrations of his voice, the thudding rhythm of his heart, lulled Karen back to sleep. All the tension, the worry, the stress of the last few weeks ebbed out of her and she dropped off almost immediately.

* * *

 When she woke, it was morning. Dim light was streaming through the windows and Karen was alone in the bed. Frank was nowhere to be seen.

She sat up slowly, trying not to panic. He wouldn’t leave. He had to be somewhere.

Sure enough, the door to the bathroom opened and Frank emerged, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. Karen watched him go to the kitchen, rummage in the cabinets, and start cooking something. He didn’t look any different, but then again, he did. His shoulders were relaxed, and she was sure she heard him humming something that sounded an awful lot like Earth, Wind, and Fire.

Soon, the cabin was full of the smell of coffee. Karen watched him move through the kitchen with ease, like he did this all the time. She wondered at that, but he must have felt her eyes on him, because he turned and his eyes met hers.

He smiled lazily, head tipped to one side like he was trying to decide if she was really there or not.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat,” Karen said, shrugging. Her stomach rumbled a little and Frank smiled.

“Good. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Shower’s in there if you want it.” He nodded towards the door and Karen scurried that way. She felt dirty, greasy. She was still in the same clothes from the day before and her hair was frizzy and wild when she looked in the mirror.

The hot water felt incredible against her skin, but Karen didn’t take long. She felt something, itching under her skin, that made her need to see Frank. As soon as possible.

She dried off, braided her hair down her back, and pulled her clothes back on. As much as she was enjoying this, being with Frank in this place, she knew they had to go back sometime to face the consequences of what they had done.

Frank’s eyes were on her as soon as she came out of the bathroom. He handed her a plate of eggs and pressed a kiss against the side of her head when she sat down.

“We’ll head back today.”  
Karen nodded over a mouthful of eggs, sorting through the messages she had received over the last twelve hours. Some were from friends. Trish, Jessica, Foggy, wanting to know why she hadn’t told them. Wanting to help. Some were from reporters, looking for their angle on the story. More than one was from her aunt, insisting she come home immediately.

“Guess Lieberman did it. Story’s out there. Should be okay to go to school tomorrow.” Frank was looking at her with those brown eyes. Looking for something.

Karen nodded again.

“You got nothing to say to that?” Frank almost looked disappointed.

“No.” She shrugged. “I trust you.”

He sat back, pushing his plate away. “Karen.”

“Frank.”

“You don’t have to just agree with me and play nice because of what happened yesterday.”

“And what, exactly, happened yesterday?” Karen said, smiling at him.

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “You know. With us.”

Karen’s smile widened. “Remind me.”

He leaned closer, eyes sparking. “Now, Miss Page, you’ve never had a problem with memory before.”

“First time for everything.”

He grinned, took her jaw in one of his large hands, and pulled her in for a kiss. Karen was sure she could never get enough of his warm lips on hers, his grunts of approval when her tongue pushed past his lips to tangle with his. She pressed a kiss to his healing nose, another to the scar over his left eye, another to a spot just behind his ear. His head dipped and Karen cradled his face in her hands, pulled him up to look at her.

“Frank,” she breathed. He turned his face to kiss her palm.

“Karen.”

It seemed a shame to leave, but they couldn’t hide away forever. It was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about adding smut to this, but it didn't feel right for this version of Frank and Karen. I felt like sixteen-year-old Karen might get a little freaked out, even with Frank, and that's where the slight dissociation-esque part comes from and that's why they don't actually hook up in this chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading! At least one more chapter and an epilogue are coming, but I'm still working out the details/got distracted by smut week. I'm going to try to have the next chapter next week, but no promises. Endings are hard for me, so I'm trying to figure out how this one ends. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I appreciate all the kudos and comments! :)


	13. let them say what they want, we won't hear it

On the drive home, Karen texted everyone who mattered to say she was alright and on her way back.

Then came the phone calls. She called the national reporters who had contacted her. Set up interviews. Photo shoots. Next were the local reporters. They were less excited about the story and much more hostile, but everyone wanted to talk to her.

Finally, after she had talked to everyone who had called and texted and emailed, Karen sank back against the seat with a sigh. Frank glanced over, concern wrinkling his brow, but he left her to her thoughts. He was good about that.

The rest of the drive seemed to take no time at all, but maybe that was because Karen was dreading the conversation she was going to have to have with her aunt and uncle when she got there. Frank sensed her unease and his hand fell to her knee, warm and heavy, grounding her, giving her something to focus on besides the impending conversation she definitely didn’t want to have.

When they pulled onto her street, they couldn’t get near the house. News vans were parked on both sides of the street, and cops were trying to get the road cleared. Karen saw a few signs and heard people chanting.

“Protesters?” she said, craning her neck to see what the signs said. “Phantom Pride. Undefeated. Page of Lies.” She scoffed out a laugh. “Not very creative, are they?”

“Jesus,” Frank said. “You can’t go through there.” His hand disappeared from her knee and she saw him looking for somewhere to turn around.

“I have to.”

“Karen, no.”

“Frank,” she insisted. “I’m already in enough trouble. Don’t make it worse.”

He grumbled, but pulled over. He swung out of the car and opened the door for her. As they walked the half block to her house, his arm was around her waist the whole way. He pushed through the throng of people, shielding Karen with his body when people tried to get photos or ask her any questions. One of the protestors tried to grab at her, but Frank shoved the guy away before he got near touching her. He pushed him so hard, the guy fell back into the crowd with a shout.

“Fuck you!” the guy yelled.

Frank snarled and began to turn around, but Karen put a hand on his arm and he focused back on her. He nodded and hurried her the rest of the way into the house.

Inside, it was quieter, but Karen could still hear the chatter of reporters and the shouts of the protesters.

“Karen,” her aunt said, stepping out of the kitchen. “Oh, thank God. You’re home. You’re safe.” She pulled Karen into a hug, and Karen felt her shaking with sobs. “We were so worried.”

“I’m okay, Aunt Cathy.”

“I’ll let you two catch up,” Frank said, clearing his throat. “Unless you want me to stay.”

Karen smiled, despite herself. “Thank you, Frank.”

“Call me later.” He kissed her cheek gently and disappeared the way he had come in.

As soon as he was gone, Karen turned to her aunt, cringing a little. Her uncle was standing in the doorway, arms folded.

“We need to talk.”

Karen followed them into the kitchen and sat across from her at the table. She folded her hands in her lap so her aunt couldn’t see them twisting around each other. She tried to focus on her breathing, like Frank had taught her. You can’t punch straight if you’re breathing too hard. And she needed to punch straight in this competition, so to speak.

Once she started, it felt like she talked for hours. Karen told them everything: the messages from Micro, the attack by the football team, the second attack on Frank, finding out the truth, quitting the paper. The fire drill. The intimidation. The letter. All of it. Even all the stuff with Matt and Elektra. And Frank.

Well, maybe not _everything_ about Frank, but that was only because she was still wrapping her mind around it. She wasn’t quite ready to share everything. Not yet.

By the time she finished talking, she was crying, salt staining her lips and cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Karen,” her aunt said, standing to pull her into a hug. “Honey, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So, you ran away with this boy, this Frank?” her uncle said, eyebrow raised skeptically.  
“He was just trying to protect me.”

“And you came forward to do what?”

“So they can’t scare me anymore. Now everyone knows the truth.”

“I’d say they do,” her aunt said, glancing at the window as she sat back down in the chair beside Karen. Karen could hear the protesters chanting something, but she couldn’t quite make it out.

Karen held her head in her hands, head pounding. When she looked up again, her aunt and uncle were considering each other.

“We’ve discussed it, and we agreed that, for starters, you’re grounded. Nothing after school, no friends’ houses, nothing. You go to school and you come home. That’s it. And no computer. For a month.”

Karen nodded. That made sense. She had hoped they wouldn’t do it, but she understood why they did.

“And we’ve called your parents.”

“What?” Karen’s heart stuttered in her chest. “What did they say?”

“Karen, they’re worried about you. So are we.”

Karen’s eyes bounced frantically between her aunt and her uncle. Neither was giving anything away.

“You’re not sending me away, are you?” Her voice caught and the tears started again in earnest. “Please don’t send me back there. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t send me back to Vermont.”

“Karen, honey, no. Of course not.” Her aunt took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re staying here with us. But they needed to know.”

“You can’t just run off like that,” her uncle said, frowning. “We have to know where you are and what’s going on.”

“I know. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Okay. Now, go upstairs and get your computer. Your grounding starts now.”

Karen hesitated. She hated to push her luck, but she had to try. “Frank’s been teaching me to fight. To defend myself,” she corrected quickly, at the stricken look on her aunt’s face.

“Why?”

“After what happened, I didn’t want to be defenseless. He’s been helping me.”

Her uncle sighed, but he nodded. “Fine. But only once a week. No more than that.”

“Thank you,” Karen said, throwing her arms around his neck. She wanted more, but she would let them cool down a little first. She had to play by the rules for a while. She knew that. It killed her to think she’d be losing time with Frank, but for now, she could handle it.

She brought them her laptop and went quietly back up to her room. Without the paper to work on, it wasn’t like she needed it, but she didn’t need to give them a reason to come up with a different punishment. Her phone buzzed and Karen smiled.

 **You okay?** Frank.

**Yeah. Just grounded.**

**Bummer. So no gym tomorrow?**

**They said I can still go once a week.**

**Pick you up tomorrow morning.**

Karen smiled. Despite the shouting people outside her house and the lights still streaming through the windows, she felt a little swell of hope in her chest.

* * *

The next day was a blur. The police made the reporters leave after a while, and the picketers left by dark. They weren’t back in the morning, but Karen had a feeling they weren’t done yet. The reporters were still at the school, and this time, they were looking for her. They had been showing her yearbook photo all day and night, and everyone knew who she was and what she had done. The protesters hadn’t followed her to school. At least not yet.

She could see the wheels turning in Frank’s head, and she knew he was thinking of just driving away from school and going back to the cabin. Instead, he pulled into the parking lot and came around the passenger side to let Karen out. She had on sunglasses and a hat, but even so, her blonde hair made her stand out. Frank wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, shielding her as much as he could.

“You need to keep this area clear,” the vice principal said to the reporters, trying to move them away from the entrance with the help of a couple of police. “Move back.”

Frank pushed through the cameras and microphones and they were almost inside before one of them spotted her.

“Karen!” Elsa Woods, of Channel 4 News, called out, and suddenly, Karen could feel dozens of eyes on her, along with every camera lens. “How does it feel, betraying your school?”

Karen whirled around before Frank could stop her. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve accused two prominent citizens of selling drugs, sanctioning violence, abducting students. You’re just the _former_ editor of a high-school paper. What makes you think you have any right to accuse them of those things?” She smiled that fake, newscaster smile, and continued before Karen could reply. “You’ve also risked the record-breaking season they’ve built this year. How does that feel?”

Frank tried to guide her away, but Karen shook her head and pulled free of his grasp. “It feels like I found out something they wanted to hide, and I tried to reveal it the right way, but everyone in this town is more concerned with the football team than with the crimes being committed almost in plain sight. If I could find all this out, why couldn’t you? Like you said, I’m just a high school student. This is your _job_. Why don’t you try actually doing it once in a while?”

She turned on her heel and stormed into the school, Frank right behind her. As soon as they were out of sight of the cameras, he pushed her against the wall and kissed her, right in front of everyone in the hallway. No one seemed to notice, or care, but Karen’s heart leapt.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked, hands clenched around her hips.

“What, I was supposed to let her say whatever she wants about me?”

He shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing. You are something else, Miss Page.”

He shook his head again and pulled away to walk her to her first class. He wouldn’t say anything else about it, but a smile was twitching at his lips whenever he looked at her. Karen sat in her desk, right in the front of the room, and for the first time in a long time, she actually felt settled enough to learn something.

All day, though, she felt something hanging over her. Someone watching her.

It wasn’t Frank, though he insisted on walking her to each class and leaving her at the door. She could feel him watching her out of the corner of his eye all through Algebra, but that wasn’t what was troubling her.

“So much for the _Bulletin_ , huh, Karen?” Jessica said, when she sat down at lunch. Frank sat beside her and Jessica nodded at him, before turning back to Karen. “Don’t need us anymore, do you?”

“I’m not the editor anymore anyway, Jess,” Karen said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“And who needs to be, when you can be the star of the nightly news, right?”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

Foggy grinned as he sat down. “That yearbook picture they’re using is definitely better than last year’s, at least.” He glanced at Frank. “I see your bodyguard is joining us again today.” Frank raised an eyebrow. “I was only kidding,” Foggy said, holding his hands up in surrender.

Karen scoffed. “Frank’s not my bodyguard. Look, I’ll even go to the ladies’ room all by myself.”

Frank tensed, but Karen pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could protest. She ignored the spluttering from Foggy and the way Jessica’s eyes went wide. Apparently, the news about her relationship with Frank hadn’t reached them yet. Or maybe they just hadn’t believed it.

Before she got two steps outside the cafeteria, though, someone grabbed her by the arm and started to pull her away from the busy hallway.

Karen didn’t think. She twisted her body and threw all her weight into a massive hook, just like Frank had taught her.

The hand on her arm released, and she saw a lanky body fall to the ground. Billy Russo lay on the linoleum, pressing his hand over his nose. It was bleeding profusely, Karen noticed absently. Maybe it was broken.

“I guess you’ll need the nurse,” she said brightly, and stepped over him to get to the bathroom, pushing through the group of people who had gathered to see what was happening. “Can somebody help him with that?”

This time, when Karen got called to the principal’s office, she knew exactly why.

* * *

Frank was waiting for her when she emerged from the office, trying to look tough with his arms crossed over his chest. The smile cracking across his face kind of ruined the effect.

“You punched him in the face?” he said, choking down a laugh.

Karen nodded, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. “He grabbed me.”

“What’d Reyes say?”

“Detention for a week.” Karen shrugged. “Worth it.”

“That’s my girl.” He tugged her to him by her belt loop and kissed her, warm and soft. Her hands found their way around his neck, tickling at the short hair at the base of his skull.

“Get to class,” the principal’s assistant said, boredom dripping from her drawling voice. “Fifth period. Go on.”

Frank walked beside Karen, arm around her waist, and she felt like nothing could stop her. Nothing could throw off this day. Everything was finally working out.

“Karen!” a voice said from behind them.

She turned, and saw Mr. Ellison standing in the doorway to his classroom. She raised an eyebrow and approached, holding out a hand to Frank to keep him back a little. She could handle this on her own.

“So, I guess you don’t really _need_ to be editor anymore,” he said, looking down at the floor. “But would you consider coming back?”

Karen thought about it. She couldn’t look at Frank. She had a feeling she knew what he’d say. “I’d consider it.”

Mr. Ellison’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “You would?” Karen nodded. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do long-term without you. We’re just scraping by as it is.”

She flushed. “Really?”

“Really. See you at the meeting tomorrow, editor.”

Karen turned to find Frank watching her, eyes gentle. Almost proud. “What?”

He left her at the doorway to her classroom with a shake of his head, and she did her best to focus. She had enough going on in her life. She didn’t need her grades to suffer any more than they already had. Especially with everyone going over her life with a fine-toothed comb, looking for anything to discredit her.

By the time Frank got her to the gym that afternoon, Karen was simultaneously too wired and too exhausted to concentrate on what he was telling her. He didn’t seem terribly focused on her punching form either, despite his hands all over her.

“Guess you don’t really need me anymore, huh, killer?” he murmured in her ear, fingers clenching on her hips while she tried to land a set of uppercuts. She shivered and missed the bag entirely.

Frank smirked and spun her around so she was facing him, her chest against his. His arms closed around her waist and she trailed her fingertips over his cheekbones.

“That’s not fair,” Karen protested. “You distracted me.”

“Call this advanced training.”

She rolled her eyes at him and he pressed a kiss to her lips, still smiling. She pressed her hips into his and his heat made her shiver. She wanted him, so badly. She almost wished they could go back to the cabin and she could work through whatever had stopped her before. She couldn’t believe she had stopped him when she could have had him, but she couldn’t go back now. She bit down on his lip and his grin widened.

“Get a room,” someone said behind them. Frank whirled to face Max, that creepy guy who had tried to hit on Karen, way back when they weren’t really talking.

“You want to say that again?” Frank growled, taking a step towards him.

Karen laid a hand on his shoulder and he stilled. “Is there a problem?” she said, as politely as she could manage.

“No,” Max said, holding up his hands in surrender. “None at all. You folks enjoy yourselves.”

Frank was tense under her fingers, and she could tell he wanted nothing more than to punch this guy. She couldn’t say she didn’t feel the same. “Frank,” she whispered. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s go.”

He glanced at the clock and his smile returned. “Got an idea.”

* * *

Instead of taking her straight home, Frank drove them to that diner he liked. The one where no one knew them. The one where he had asked her about Matt. The one where he had told her about Maria. The one where they had really connected for the first time.

The coffee was as bad as she remembered, but she didn’t care. This was their place. A place she didn’t have to share with anyone but him. No reporters, no classmates. Just Frank.

“So, what do we do now?” Frank said, studying her over the rim of his coffee cup.

“What do you mean?”

He held out his hands to her and she took them. His thumb traced her knuckles and he lifted one hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Well, we don’t have to fight anybody. Or hide from anybody. So, what do we do now?”

Karen smiled. “We enjoy it. You know as well as I do, I won’t last.”

Frank chuckled. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“I have some interviews over the weekend. You know, those big national morning shows and all that.” She didn’t want to admit it, but she was a little nervous. Talking to real reporters was a little different to going off on a local newscaster feeling smug about what she thought she knew about Karen and the story.

“You’ll be great.” He kissed her hand again, and Karen felt warmth spread through her. She didn’t have to say it. Frank knew. He knew her, and he knew how she was feeling.

“Guess we should go home,” she said, draining her cup and sliding out of the booth.

Frank threw some money on the table and followed her out, hand between her shoulder blades. He drove her home, but didn’t move to let her out.

Karen turned in her seat to face him, tracing the lines of his face with her fingers. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She closed the space between them and kissed him, slow and soft. Her tongue pressed into his mouth and he grinned, hand wrapping behind her head to hold her to him.

Karen could have stayed there forever, in his arms, his lips and tongue and teeth tangling with hers, but a knock on the window startled them both out of their embrace.

“Karen!” her uncle said, peering through the window at them. “Inside. Now.”

Frank grinned sheepishly. “Guess you better go.”

“Yeah,” Karen said, kissing him once more before she opened the door to face the wrath of her guardians. She watched him drive away from the hallway and smiled. He was hers and she was his. That was all she really needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a short epilogue posted soon, but this is almost the end of the story. I have a hard time writing endings, but I wanted to give Karen a chance to stand up for herself, instead of always being rescued, so the reporter scene and the Billy scene are probably my favorite parts of this one.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and thank you for the kudos and comments and support. I really appreciate all of you for taking this journey with me. :)


	14. epilogue

Karen did all the interviews, photo shoots, and videos people wanted, until everyone was satisfied and tired of hearing about the football team’s drug ring. She and Frank met up with Lieberman again, and she was surprised to see how well he and Frank got along. He was never revealed as the source, and she received multiple offers to work as a junior reporter for a few newspapers. She knew it was all a promotional move, especially with how difficult it was to publish any news anymore, but it was still nice to know she could work in the field she loved. She was back on as the editor of the school paper, and that was keeping her busy. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, lots of people wanted to join the paper now, though most of them struggled with hitting deadlines or writing things that were coherent. Karen had her hands full.

Rawlins and Schoonover were fired after everything came out, though the school didn’t press charges. and the football team crumbled without them and their star receiver or their best linebacker. Russo was kicked off the team and moved schools to get away from the story. Frank had quit the team after everything came out, and to Karen’s great surprise, opted to join the mock trial team in January for their spring competition.

“I’m the defendant,” he said to Karen, who was staring at him in shock, her lunch forgotten.

“You’re what?”

“I want to do something different,” he said, shrugging. “My counselor said it would look good.”

“Oh, yeah?” Karen said. She cringed at the desperate hope in her voice.

“Yeah. I met with a recruiter. Said I should be able to join up, no problem. Extracurriculars can outweigh grades, he said.”

“Join up?”

“Marines. Like my dad. Just have to take their test and see what I’m good at.”

“Oh.”

Frank frowned. “What?”

“You meet our newest member?” Foggy said brightly, beaming at Frank. Karen had never seen him look so happy to see her boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah, Frank just told me. Awesome.” She couldn’t quite put enthusiasm into it, but Foggy hardly noticed.

“He’s going to be perfect. We have this perfect part for him. We’re going to beat everyone this spring. No question.” She wondered if Matt shared his excitement. She had seen him and Elektra in passing, but they hadn’t talked since their last conversation in the hallway. She couldn’t help but be curious how this was going to work with him and Frank. She was sure she’d hear all about it.

“Cool.”

Frank was watching her, dark eyes studying her face. She could never hide anything from him. She didn’t want to. But this wasn’t something they could talk about now. Not with Foggy and everyone else around.

Later, when he was driving her home, Karen could feel the weight of their unfinished conversation hanging between them.

Frank turned off the car outside her house and took her hand to walk her into the house. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind, Miss Page?”

Karen shrugged as she opened the door and led him up the stairs before her aunt or uncle could stop them. She had only just stopped being grounded, and she wasn’t looking to go back to sitting in her room alone. They had to be quiet.

“Nothing,” she said, closing the door behind her. Frank raised an eyebrow. Karen bit her lip. “Just, I didn’t expect you to go into the military. Not right away.”

“Why not?” He was frowning again.

“You could go to college. Get a degree.”

“I can do that after, for free.”

“But you could stay close.” She was whispering now, hardly even able to put it into words. She sank down on the bed. She knew she was being ridiculous. She just hated to think of Frank not being there. He had become such an important part of her life in such a short amount of time. To think of him leaving to go overseas and possibly get hurt or killed made her heart not only break, but shatter in her chest. It was a miracle it was still beating.

“Karen,” he murmured, and she shook her head. “We still have months before anything changes. There’s still prom and graduation and all summer before I go.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Frank’s hands were there immediately to cradle her face and he wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “If that’s what you want, then I’m happy for you.”

“No, you’re not.” He kissed her forehead. “This is what I need to do, Karen. Trust me.”

“I do.” She leaned against him, trying not to think about a time when she wouldn’t be able to do that. It was still months away, but she could feel the loss already. “I trust you.”

“I’ll come back.” He kissed her gently, again and again, pushing her back onto the bed and crawling over her. His weight grounded her, and she wrapped her body around his. He pushed her sweater off her shoulders, hands finding their way under her shirt to trail over her belly. Her skin burned against his touch. “I’ll always come back to you.”

She believed him. She always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story that wouldn't go away until I wrote it. I've been so humbled and amazed by the kudos and comments, and I really appreciate all of you taking this journey with me. I know this last part is pretty short, but everything was pretty much resolved, and I didn't want to drag it out any further. 
> 
> Stay tuned for whatever I write next (might be a road trip, might be something with a dog, I'm not really sure), and thank you again for reading. This fandom is seriously the best.


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